


Adventures in Coffee Shops

by stcvenrogers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bucky is a law student, But so is Bucky, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, Starbucks, Steve is a busy busy boy, Very cliché story, bucky is rly awkward, bucky is very very oblivious, but it's ok they'll work things out, but not that slow i guess, i feel bad for steve sometimes, steve is a barista, stupid boys in stupid denial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-07-23 10:23:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20006755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stcvenrogers/pseuds/stcvenrogers
Summary: Bucky runs an experiment on the blond boy who never seems to stop working at his local Starbucks. Eventually, they manage to become friends, and no, Nat, he does not have a crush. Stop bothering him about it already.





	1. Bucky Carries Out An Experiment

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I'm writing anything so please bear with me on any mistakes I make. Thanks to my buddies on twitter, Daria, Rucha and Sky, for proof reading this for me. This is just a whole lot of fluff and something for me to do during the summer holidays. Any feedback, comments, kudos are very appreciated. Hope you enjoy the story! I'll continue to update regularly because I've got literally nothing else to do.

Bucky swears, he is _this_ close to punching his professor. Sighing, he sits back in his chair and runs a hand down his face, wishing for a hole to open up under him and eat him alive. Or maybe transport him to the Maldives for the next several decades. 

“Are you dying?” He peaks his eyes open to watch Natasha glare at him in annoyance, her perfect fingers wrapped around her pen. He wonders why Nat is even studying and suffering through this bullshit with him when she has a successful modelling career, and can probably get away with never reading another word ever again. Probably.

“Feels like it.” Sighing again, he takes a long sip of his coffee until the obnoxious slurp informs him that his cup is now, in fact, empty, and wonders if God exists, why he ever let him apply to law school in the first place.

“Can you do it, like, quietly?” Bucky needs better friends, he thinks. He lets out another sigh, louder and more dramatically this time because he’s stressed and tired and just feels like being a general ass today. Getting up to his feet, he wipes his hands on his ripped jeans before trudging towards the cashier, scrubbing a hand down his face and considers dropping out of law school to work at a Starbucks for the rest of his life. 

“Hey. What can I get you?” The tall blond man behind the counter asks, flashing him a charming smile. 

“Americano. Venti. Please.” The whole thing is monotonous, and uneventful, and not for the first time, Bucky wonders when he got so boring. He used to go to parties, pick up both girls and boys, drink everyone under the table, and now, he can barely bring himself to find the energy to flirt with a cute boy. After he gets back to his table, he notices Natasha staring at the counter in concentration, her eyes fixed on the same blond boy that served Bucky his drink. 

“What?” 

“That boy.” She squints, trying to get a better look at his name tag. “Steve, I think.” 

“What about him?” 

“He’s always here.” Bucky furrows his eyebrows in confusion, wondering if Nat has lost it more than he has. Understandable, it _is_ exam season. 

“Nat, he works here. Of course he’s always here.” 

Rolling her eyes and kicking him under the table. “No, you _ass_. I meant like, always here. I was here at 10pm last night and he was still here.” Bucky thinks back to all the times he’s been in this Starbucks, attempting to scan his memories for the familiar looking blond boy, only to realise it takes too much brain power and really, Bucky doesn’t care that much. He doesn’t think he has the mental capacity to think about it right now. 

“Maybe he just really likes coffee.” Bucky suggests, opening his book and going back to reading about tort law.

°•. ✿ .•°

Even though he keeps telling himself he doesn’t care, Bucky begins noticing the boy—Steve—every time he’s there, flashing him his perfect smile and asking Bucky what he wants that day. And no, it’s not because he’s adorable. It really isn’t, Natasha. So he conducts a social experiment because despite _not caring_ , he’s very intrigued, and it’s more interesting than his stupid exam.

“Clint.” Bucky whispers conspiratorially, when he’s in the same Starbucks about a week later, poking his arm with a pen. 

“What?” Clint looks up, eyes sleepy and unfocused. 

“Y’know that boy? The tall, blond one. Built like a brick house on steroids?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Have you noticed he’s always here?” Bucky sees this same expression he had when Nat first suggested the idea on Clint’s face, eyes narrowing in confusion. Probably thinking Bucky has lost his mind. “No—seriously. Nat pointed it out and I can’t stop thinking about it, right? He’s always here.” 

“He works here, Bucky.” Bucky is starting to understand why Nat kicked him that day.

“No, but listen okay? I’ve been experimenting.”

“You’ve been experimenting. Mid exam season of your first year in law school.” 

“No, okay, I know what it sounds like. But I was here everyday for the past week, right? On Tuesday I came here with Nat at around 2. Then Wednesday, I came at 6, then Thursday at 12, and Friday at 10pm, and then yesterday, I even woke up at 10am just to test out my theory. He’s _always_ here. He’s always working. Does he like, live here or something?” Clint just stares at him like he can see Bucky’s last brain cell just die and fall out of his ear. 

“Bucky, have you ever considered, I don’t know, just asking him?” Clint seriously looks like he’s seconds away from conjuring the devil himself so he can sell his soul and get him out of this conversation.

“What would I even say? Hey, pal, I’ve seen you working here every single day so I did a mini experiment and found that you’re always here no matter what time it is? Do you live here? Do you need help?” Bucky questions sarcastically only to be met with another eye roll from Clint, followed closely by a frustrated huff. 

“You’re the weirdest person I’ve ever met, you know that, Barnes?” 

“Shut up, Barton.” 

°•. ✿ .•°

Bucky thinks about what Clint said the next day as he pushes through the doors of the Starbucks. Just ask him. It can’t be that hard, right? They see each other everyday, they’re practically friends. So why not just ask him, right? Except, when Bucky gets to the counter, he realises just how weird what he’s doing is. He’s essentially been stalking the guy at his workplace for the last two weeks. 

“Hey, Bucky, what can I get you today?” Steve asks, his lips curling up into that familiar, charming smile. Bucky lets out a stupid, unintelligent noise. Something between a motorcycle and a whale. “You okay?” 

“I’m good. Americano. Venti.” He takes a deep breath, watching Steve as he writes. Eh, fuck it, right? “When’s the end of your shift?” He’s not sure why, but for some reason, Steve thinks the worthy reaction to the question is raising his eyebrows. 

“My break’s in 30 minutes.” Is Steve’s response. And, okay, it wasn’t exactly what Bucky was asking, but he takes it anyway, not wanting to embarrass himself further. 

“Gotcha.” 30 minutes passes by relatively quickly, because for the first time this month, Bucky is able to settle down and actually get some god damned work done so he doesn’t fail. So, when Steve approaches, his own coffee in hand and plops down on the chair across from him as if it’s his table, he gets more than just a little bit shocked. 

“Sorry for scaring you,” Steve smiles, and Bucky wonders for a second if Steve is secretly the tooth fairy because there’s no way anyone’s teeth can be that straight.

“Sorry for being scared. Wasn’t expecting you.” Steve gets the same look he did when Bucky asked when his shift ended, a mixture of shock, confusion and smugness, but yet somehow, Steve still looks like the greek god he always does. 

“Thought you invited me here, Buck.” The nickname slips from his lips so effortlessly, Bucky nearly doesn’t notice it. Steve says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, like they’ve been childhood best friends and he grew up calling him that. But then what he says catches up with him and now it’s Bucky’s turn to look confused. 

“When did I invite you?” Bucky takes a long sip of his drink, playing with the tissue wrapped around his cup for a lack of something to do with his hands.

“You asked me when my shift was over? I assumed you were trying to ask me out?” That causes him to choke on his drink, because, yes, whilst Steve is beautiful in every way, all hard lines and strong muscle, Bucky is also an incredibly stressed out, and very busy law student with no time to date. He thinks about the experiment he’s been running on the man sitting across from him and blinks to himself for a second. He really needs to study more. And then he thinks, why would such a charming and pretty boy even want to go out with someone like him? And then he also realises, if it had been some homophobic asshole he had said that to, then he probably would’ve been lying on the floor by now with blood running down his face, but instead, he managed to say it to, not only one of the most beautiful men he’s ever seen in his whole ass life, but also apparently, one of the nice ones. “Bucky?” Steve looks nervous now and Bucky feels like a dick for leaving Steve hanging for so long. 

“No, I wasn’t. I-I mean, not because I don’t like you or think you’re ugly, I think you’re really, really attractive. I mean, your eyes are really pretty and stuff. I just—” Bucky huffs a breath of annoyance at himself. Smooth, Barnes. “I always see you here, y’know? It’s like, you’re always here. No matter what time I come, or don’t come. Or what day it is. You’re always here. I’m surprised you even have breaks, because I always see you working.” Bucky finally shuts himself up, pursing his lips together and cursing anything he can curse. The potted plant in the corner, the chair Steve is sitting on, Steve himself. 

“How long have you noticed this for?” Steve, thankfully, looks mildly amused, as opposed to being creeped out and calling the police about a stalker. 

“Uh,” he squints, thinking about the times he’s been to this very Starbucks recently, “About two weeks?” 

“Ah. That explains it. I’ve been picking up extra shifts lately, trying to get enough money for both my rent and my art stuff. Usually I work the morning shift, 10 to 1 but I’ve been picking up 1 to 4 lately when I can. I’ve also been covering for one of my friends who had to rush home for a family thing and she just hasn’t been back yet. She works 7 to 10.” Bucky feels so incredibly stupid. That makes so much sense. In fact, it makes so much sense that Bucky wants to punch himself in the face for being, as he said, so incredibly stupid. He feels his cheeks heat up and curses Nat for ever pointing it out to begin with. 

“You work a lot.” Is the only thing Bucky is able to say to that, earning him a non committal shrug. 

“I got bills.” There’s a brief, awkward silence between them, before Bucky clears his throat. 

“So uh, sorry for the confusion. I swear, it’s really not because I don’t like you or anything I. I’m just really busy, studying and all.” He winces at his own awkwardness, although, if Steve notices it, he doesn’t mention it. Doesn’t even react. 

“Oh, cool, where? What’re you studying?” 

“NYU. Law.” Steve’s face lights up suddenly, his signature, stupid, bright smile forming on his lips. 

“Oh shit. No way. I’m at NYU too. Art and archaeology.” Bucky nods, and doesn’t stop nodding, stupidly, like he’s a fucking woodpecker. 

“Cool. That’s real cool of you, Steve. What do you want to do when you graduate?” Steve tilts his head in thought, humming contemplatively, but when he opens his mouth to respond he’s cut off by a male voice from behind him. 

“Rogers. It’s been 15 minutes. Stop flirting with the cute guy and come back to work.” Steve’s face lights up red, almost like he’s been slapped. He sees the colour run down his neck and can imagine it spanning the length of his wide shoulders, down his broad back, and—Bucky really needs to stop. Clearing his throat, Steve gets up and composes himself so quickly Bucky almost questions if he imagined the redness on his cheeks, 

“Museum. Or my own paintings, or something. Listen, I gotta go, but if you ever wanna go on that date when you’re more free, just let me know.” The smile returns, coupled by a wink. Bucky’s suddenly so happy he’s sitting down, otherwise he may have just collapsed on the floor in a pile of stupid, stressed out law student.


	2. Bucky Interrogates His Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky interrogates all his friends about Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so here's an update. thank you for the comments on chapter 1! i really appreciated it. i have a vague idea of how this fic is going to go but i'm not completely sure yet. thanks to raven for proof reading this, love you lots. tell me what you think! leave me a kudos, comment, tell me if you like it, tell me if you hate it. idk. thanks for reading friends
> 
> come hang out with me on twitter @stcvengrant i cry about stucky, steve and seb a lot

Over the next few days, Bucky’s curiosity only grows as he begins to notice Steve, quite literally, everywhere; in the cafeteria, around the campus, walking to and from class. In all honesty, it’s a little bit creepy and Bucky starts to wonder if he’s being stalked. What would that even be called? Mutual stalking? He’s not really sure. There’s probably something in his textbook about this. He wonders where Steve gets the time to be everywhere, work so much and is still able to complete a whole ass masters program. Steve is probably a wizard.

“You guys know a dude named Steve Rogers?” Bucky asks as he plops down into a seat at lunch, dropping his backpack carelessly next to him and nearly hitting Bruce in the leg. The usual group is here, consisting of Nat, Tony, Bruce and Clint. 

“About 6’2, blond, looks like he could beat you up with his pinky but is really just a gentle puppy hidden behind sarcasm and grumpiness?” Tony is the first person to speak up, and really, nobody, namely him, is surprised that Tony is the only one who seems to know anything about his mysterious coffee boy. 

“Wouldn’t put it that way, but yeah. Him.” Bucky answers, fidgeting uncomfortably under Nat’s scrutinising eye. He really wishes he had a coffee in his hands right about now. He watches Barton watching a fly that rests on his arm. 

“Why? You got a crush, Barnes?” Bucky, despite _not_ having a crush on Steve, feels his cheeks heat up, huffing in annoyance. He really should’ve predicted this was coming because his group of friends only have one hobby, and it’s bullying him.

“No. I’ve just been noticing him recently, that’s all.” 

“What he means,” Clint inserts, very unhelpfully, “is that Barnes has been stalking him for like, the last month.” Bucky hates his friends. He hates all of them. He considers transferring, maybe back home. Maybe it’s not too late to apply to a university in Boston so he can go home and hide in his room. He hopes the fly poops on Clint’s arm.

“It’s been like, three weeks max. And I’m not stalking him. It’s the closest Starbucks to my house, okay? And I’m pretty sure he’s been stalking me back too. I see him everywhere around campus.” 

“Maybe that’s because he goes to school here.” Bruce pipes up in the conversation for the first time, surprising Bucky a little. Really, his friends only pay attention when it’s at his expense. He needs better friends. 

“You want his number, Bucko?” Tony offers, a smirk crossing his face.

“No, I was just curious. Now can we talk about something else? How’s your project going, Tony?” Almost immediately, he sees Clint’s eyes zone out and Nat pull out her iPad from her purse. Bruce is the only one still paying attention because he’s the only nice one out of the five of them. 

°•. ✿ .•°

Bucky isn’t stupid. He managed to get into NYU Law, a highly prestigious and highly regarded course internationally, but sometimes, he can be really fucking stupid. He realises one of those times is when he shows up to his lecture and realises that he’s forgotten his textbook, his socks and everything in between. He glares at the clock on the wall, mentally begging the hand to stop moving so he can rush back to his room and get his stuff. 

“Hey, Buck.” A vaguely familiar voice comes from behind him, causing Bucky to jump like a startled cat. If he were a cat, his fur would be standing up, but he’s not a cat, so his surprise is expressed in a stupid noise that sounds eerily like one. “Sorry. I gotta stop doing that.” Steve is chuckling, his hair is combed back and he looks more put together at this 9am lecture than Bucky ever has in his whole life.

“Yeah, but it’s all good.” Bucky attempts to flash him a reassuring smile, but Bucky honestly still feels on edge and incredibly confused, so it probably comes off more like a wince. “Didn’t know an art MA required you to attend lectures on,” he squints, recalling his schedule, “professional responsibility in civil litigation.” Part of him dies at the thought of sitting through the lecture. 

“Nah. It doesn’t. I was just dropping something off for a friend. Sounds...interesting, though.” Steve is so polite, but Bucky can see straight through that tone because it’s the same one he uses when he talks about his course to strangers. He knows Steve would rather jump into a volcano than be stuck in that hall for the next three hours, and honestly, Bucky would too. But he doesn’t really have a choice in the matter. “Listen, I gotta run. I’ve got work, but uh, it was nice seeing you again. I’ll catch you later?” 

“Yeah. Totes.” Who the fuck says ‘totes’? He hates himself more than he hates his friends. 

°•. ✿ .•°

The next person Bucky decides to interrogate is Peter Parker, a small art undergraduate who’s nearly as addicted to coffee as he is and definitely way more jumpy. He questions the possibility of Peter and Steve running into each other despite the latter doing a masters. Would history of art and art even be in the same building? Bucky should’ve done his research before approaching the boy. 

“Parker.” Bucky attempts his best I’m-older-than-you-voice and then cringes internally at how dumb he sounds. “I gotta ask you something.” 

“What’s up?” Peter looks so excited at interacting with one of his seniors that Bucky almost feels bad about how lame he truly is. Almost. 

“Have you ever met a dude, does art and archeology, 6’2, blond hair, blue eyes, really fucking buff?” Peter’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and Bucky can see his brain trying to stay on task, running through the memories in his brain. 

“Yeah. There’s a guy named Rogers. He models for us sometimes.” Of fucking course Steve models for art. The man looks like a living statue carved out from marble by the Greeks themselves. Bucky suddenly realises he’s not really sure what he wants to know about Steve, all he really knows about him is that he paints and spends way too much time working. Briefly, Bucky recalls Tony’s description of Steve as a puppy and honestly, it doesn’t really help much. Tony thinks everyone is a puppy unless they go out of their way to be an ass to him. 

“Well, what’s he like?” 

“He’s, uh, nice. I guess. I never really get to talk to him. He’s always rushing places or something. He’s handsome, though, always getting asked out and stuff.” 

“Does he...ever say yes?” Bucky asks, trying to sound nonchalaunt. Leaning against a bookshelf and really fucking hoping he doesn’t look as stiff or awkward as he feels. 

“Not that I know. Always says he’s too busy to date or something.” Bucky can physically feel his ego and head grow at that response and reminds himself that there’s probably another reason why Steve said yes. Maybe the girls, and probably boys, just asked at a bad time. Maybe he’s only been asked out by girls and is actually gay, he doesn’t know, but that doesn’t stop the sense of pride from welling up inside him. 

“Thanks, Parker. I’ll see ya later, yeah?” Bucky gives him a genuine smile, his mood lifted from the beginning of the conversation as he bounces off to get his daily dose of Steve Rogers and a drink. 

°•. ✿ .•°

So, imagine his surprise when he shows up and Steve isn’t behind the counter, blue eyes bright as he smiles. Instead, he’s met with the face of another man who, albeit very attractive, is not Steve. He looks familiar though, and as he gets closer, he recognises the voice as the man who called Steve from the table. He called Bucky ‘cute boy’. 

“What can I get you?” The man behind the counter asks, his name tag reading ‘Sam’ as he gives Bucky a smile. He can see the exhaustion behind the eyes and sympathises, every single student at this university either doesn’t care enough that they look happy 24/7 or they look like they’re seconds away from falling asleep at all times. Except for Steve, who seems to be incredibly hardworking and yet always seems so cheerful. Bucky doesn’t understand him. 

“Americano. Venti.” 

“What’s your name?” 

“Bucky.” Quickly, he can see the name ‘Buckie’ written on the cup and he just thinks, close enough. At least it’s phonetically correct. He looks around, trying to get a glimpse into the staff room to catch Steve. Maybe he’s on his break and is just resting in the back, or maybe they ran out of ingredients and he had to refill.

“Steve’s not here right now. He’ll check in at 7.” Sam informs him, and Bucky blushes bright, crimson red and curses just how pale he is. Every time he blushes, he looks like a fucking Christmas tree. “Don’t worry about it. I only know about this because Steve talks about you nonstop.” He gives Bucky a reassuring smile, and Bucky decides that he likes Sam. “That’ll be $3.29.” 

°•. ✿ .•°

Bucky is busy. He really is. He’s got so much shit to do, so many exams to prepare for, so many textbooks to slave over for the next century. So he really shouldn’t have a document open about the various information he’s collected about Steve over the past month. Currently, his list consists of;

1\. He’s studying history of art and archeology.  
2\. He works at a Starbucks. Usually takes the 10-1 shift. (Bucky should start going earlier).  
3\. He models for the art undergrads.  
4\. He’s always getting asked out but never says yes.  
5\. He said yes when he thought Bucky was asking him out.  
6\. He essentially asked Bucky out too.  
7\. Steve never stops talking about him (according to Sam, his coworker).

In conclusion, Bucky is pretty sure Steve has a crush on him, or at least finds him attractive enough to ask out. The thought makes Bucky kind of giddy inside and he hopes to God that Steve, if they do start dating, never finds this document. Then he realises, there’s no way they can start dating because he is actually, genuinely incredibly busy. He scowls, staring at his laptop in annoyance. If law school didn’t matter so much to him, Bucky would’ve already started flirting back. He probably would’ve already been on several dates with Steve, maybe they would’ve already started dating, maybe-

“Why’ve you got a document open on Rogers, Mr. Too Busy To Hang Out With His Friends?” Tony asks and Bucky can _hear_ the smugness in his voice. He wants to punch himself for not being more careful. They’ve been roommates since day one after Bucky responded to an advertisement he saw on the NYU Post Grad facebook page, and Tony has never learnt to knock on his door before entering. 

“It’s not a page on Rogers.” Is the only defense Bucky can think of. He’s met with a raised eyebrow from Tony as he glances at the page very clearly labelled ‘Information I Know About Steve Rogers’. “Okay, it’s a page on Rogers. He’s just confusing, y’know? I’m just curious. Don’t look at me like that.” He huffs defensively, turning around and minimising the page before going back to his online textbook. 

“Y’know, Barnes, you can always ask me to introduce you guys properly. He’s a nice guy, you can even be friends or however you flirt. I promise not to make fun of your little crush. It’s normal, he’s, like, ridiculously pretty and ridiculously nice. Everyone's had a crush on him at some point in life, even me.” Bucky winces at the idea of having a crush on the same person as Tony Stark. 

“What’s he like?” Bucky asks and instantly regrets it. Tony looks like he just got Bucky to confess his deepest, darkest secret. 

“He’s sweet, real sweet. Like straight out of a romcom level gentleman. He’s very, very talented. My dad even bought some of his paintings at undergrad. Studies art and archeology, though, you already know that,” Tony pauses, recalling all the times he’s talked to Steve, “real feisty though. He’ll fight anyone he thinks is acting like a piece of shit. Used to be really small and bullied in high school so he thinks the world is out to get him. That’s about all there is to him, Bucko.” He tries to imagine Greek God Steve Rogers as being small and thin. He almost laughs aloud at the idea. 

“Alright. Thanks, Stark.” 

“Anytime. Just do me a favour?” 

“What’s up?”

“Don’t fuck him in our apartment, please.” Tony gets hit in the face with the nearest pillow.


	3. Bucky Goes to a Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony throws a birthday party, Sam thinks Steve needs to have more fun, and Bucky still does not have a crush on Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time we get anything from Steve's POV, it was an experiment. Let me know what you think?? Comments, kudos, shares would be great. Thanks for reading again, friends! If you want to hang out find me on twitter @stcvengrant adios

As he’s loading plates into the dishwasher, Steve thinks about Bucky. Specifically, the odd friendship he’s developed with Bucky over the last month or so. He runs through the various pieces of advice given to him by his friends and wonders just how he ended up in this situation; with a crush on a guy Sam, his best friend and flatmate, is convinced is also his stalker. 

“--Steve!” The aforementioned best friend shouts in a way that suggests he called Steve’s name at least 5 times, only to be met with silence. 

“Shit. Sorry. What is it?” 

“Stark invited us to his birthday party. And you’re going.”

“What? When?” Steve furrows his eyebrows and runs through his list of responsibilities. He needs to study for his exams next month, he’s got work everyday, and he’s got his usual classes. He lets out a sigh that doesn’t even come close to reflecting the utter exhaustion he feels. “Sam, you know how busy I am. I can’t just drop everything to go to a Stark party.”

“I know. But it’s on Saturday. I know Wanda’s back by then so you get your Saturdays back, and I also know you forgot which means you have no plans, so you’re coming to the party.” Steve runs a hand down his face, momentarily forgetting that his hands are still soaking wet. He lets out another breath. He hates his life. 

“Sam, I hate parties. I don’t want to go.” Steve whines, bottom lip sticking out in a way that he knows makes him look _absolutely fucking adorable_ , thank you very much. 

“Look, honestly, I’m worried for you, dude, you haven’t had a day off for months. Go out, socialise, enjoy it. Just go for an hour or two and if you really aren’t having a good time, then we can go watch movies at home or something.” Steve feels a sense of guilt running through him at the thought of making Sam worry. Really, he knows Sam means well and this invitation is just him trying to look after Steve, and he also knows that Sam’s right, he hasn’t had fun since he started trying to make enough money to fund his art on top of everything else. “And Barnes is going to be there.”

“Fine.” Steve huffs. “But only for an hour.” The smile Sam gives him, bright and relieved, is almost worth the torture of going to a party. And if he sees Bucky there, well, then that’s just a bonus.

°•. ✿ .•°

Bucky regrets agreeing to let Tony host a party in their house. Sure, the house itself isn’t that small and Bucky could probably hide in his room for the whole thing with a sock on the door and be left unbothered for the rest of the night. But it’s also Tony’s birthday, and whilst on most days Bucky would jump at the opportunity to fight his roommate and maybe even leave him on a deserted road somewhere with no way of getting home, probably, not even he is heartless enough to miss one of his best friend’s birthdays. 

“C’mon, Bucko. The party’s starting. It’s time to go.” Tony swings his door open, again, without knocking, and takes in Bucky’s appearance with a hum. “And change your trousers into the skinny jeans.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.” Tony, as annoying as he was, has never _actually_ let Bucky down. So, why the hell not, right? 

°•. ✿ .•°

Bucky gets his answer in the form of his not-crush standing in the middle of his living room talking to Tony. He wonders if it’s too late for him to move out, maybe go back to living in his old dorm room. Or maybe he should reconsider the email he got about a job offer from the prince of Nigeria. Maybe it’s not a scam.

“Bucko!” He hears the familiar voice of his best friend, no, _former_ best friend cut through the music. He begs the universe to turn him into a bird so he can fly out of his house to safety, and seriously considers making a run for it only for Steve to turn around, their eyes meeting, the familiar bright smile appearing on his lips as he raises his hand in a wave. Bucky does not swoon. “C’mere. This is Steve Rogers, he’s a friend of mine.” Tony flashes him a smile reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat, the mischievousness behind the grin causing Bucky’s nervousness about the whole situation to heighten significantly. 

“We’ve actually already met.” He hears Steve explain to Tony in a calmer voice, much less obnoxiously loud.

“Oh, have you now?” Tony asks in a way that gives away that he’s not in the least bit surprised. Bucky briefly wonders if he should revisit the old NYU Post Grad Facebook Page and find new friends, maybe even a new roommate. 

“Yeah. He works at the place I study.” Bucky tries to smile but he’s 100% sure the discomfort is evident on his face, most likely mimicking the square smile emoji. 

“Well, that’s interesting and all but Pepper is here and I wanna talk to her so…” Tony trails off, pushing his way past Bucky and towards the beautiful blond woman just walking into the house. Briefly, Bucky wonders how someone like Tony managed to get a girlfriend as beautiful and brilliant as Pepper.

“So. Uh. How do you know Tony?” Bucky swivels around, completely forgetting Steve was standing there for a second. As he begins to calm down, he notices the nervous anxiety on Steve; the way he’s biting his lip, how he’s gripping his bottle a little too tightly, how he’s tapping his foot but it’s nowhere near in sync to the beat of the music. 

“You wanna get some air?” Bucky’s suspicions are confirmed when Steve practically melts, his shoulders relaxing as he nods gratefully. After a bit of struggle, they manage to make their way outside to the pavement where the loud music is reduced to a dull roar in the background. “You alright?” 

“Sorry. Parties aren’t really my thing.” And Bucky, then and there, realises what a bad idea it was to come outside. Out here, he can clearly hear Steve’s deep voice rough with the shouting and drinking, and god, is it attractive. 

“It’s alright.” An uncomfortable silence takes over as Bucky scrambles for something else to say. “Uh. Housemate. Tony’s my housemate.” Steve’s eyes widen in surprise as he gestures to the house behind him. 

“No way, you live here?” 

“Yeah. Stark pays for most of it though.” 

“I’m not surprised.” Steve pauses for a moment and Bucky’s never felt quite as nervous as he does now. It’s not the same nervous energy he usually feels around people he likes, it’s more of a dull thrum of electricity running through his veins, his heart racing as he picks at the cuts in his jeans. “Want a drink?” Steve pushes his beer towards Bucky, but he doesn’t turn to meet Bucky’s eyes, just continues to stare off into the distance. 

“Y’know, when I was younger, I used to be a frat boy.” That gets a laugh out of Steve, a quiet one that sounds more like a loud breath, a corner tugging up into a lazy but amused smile. “Yeah. I know. Thought I was so cool.” 

“I never liked parties growing up or at undergrad. I just never saw the appeal of the loud music and loud people and just- loud everything. It’s too much for me.” 

“So, not to sound rude, but why’re you here?” Bucky suddenly feels so stupid for no particular reason. The energy in his chest continues to grow like a balloon until it’s almost suffocating. It’s constricting in a way that doesn’t necessarily feel uncomfortable or unpleasant but keeps him on edge, unable to relax. He thinks that he’s acting more like his little sister around her high school crushes than around someone who’s supposed to be a friend. 

“Sam convinced me to come. He’s kinda worried about me. I mean, you know I work a lot. I haven’t really had time to myself, but, uh, no offense to Tony or anything, but I haven’t really been having the greatest time.” He looks over at Bucky then, and for the first time, Bucky sees the exhaustion usually covered by his smile become prominent in his features, he sees the tiredness that can only result from too many hours at the library, studying his ass off only to make no progress for months on end. 

“You wanna get out of here, then?” Steve’s eyebrows lift, the previous expression completely wiped from his face. 

“What about Tony?” 

“He won’t mind. I’ll text him.” Steve seems to consider this for a moment, his head tilting, causing the word ‘puppy’ to immediately spring to mind. He’s starting to understand Tony’s description much more. 

“What do you have in mind?”

°•. ✿ .•°

And that’s how they find themselves in a twenty-four hour diner trying to finish a large pizza as they tell stories about their lives. 

“So y’know, by then, Becca, my sister, is mortified. She hates me so much. And her boyfriend looks like he’s about to cry. But then my mum comes home and breaks up the whole thing. I don’t think she ever really forgave me for that.” Bucky narrates, waving a piece of greasy pizza in the air as he talks. Across the table, Steve’s face is red with laughter, a hand clutching his stomach. Really, his story isn’t that funny, not more so than any other normal childhood story, but they’ve maybe had one too many beers, it’s now reaching 2am and they’re both slightly out of it. 

“I’m suddenly so glad I didn’t have any siblings growing up.” 

“You should be, Rogers.” Bucky feels an unexplainable urge to throw a piece of ham at Steve, but resists, popping it into his mouth instead. “Any family stories?” 

“No. I-” Steve swallows, and Bucky is hit with a sudden tsunami of guilt. Stupid. He’s so stupid. Why didn’t he consider that Steve might have some complicated family issues? Not everyone is as lucky as him to grow up with such a great family. God, he’s so insensitive. Steve probably doesn’t even want to be his friend anymore. “I grew up with my ma but she died when I was quite young. My pa died before I was born. Army.” Bucky wants to grow a third arm just to punch himself in the head for being so stupid. 

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Bucky breathes, the previous easy going atmosphere in the room disappearing. Steve recovers quickly, though, probably used to dumbasses like Bucky become speechless at the mention of his late parents. 

“It’s all good. But there was this one time Peggy, my best friend, and I got arrested because we accidentally stole something.” Suddenly, Bucky has so much more respect for Steve. This lovely boy who never seems to radiate anything but joy and happiness has suffered through so much, and yet, he keeps pushing through. He knows he’s not listening as well as he should, but he can’t really help it. He’s just amazed. “What is it?” Steve pauses mid story as he takes another bite of his pizza. 

“Nothing. You’re just pretty cool, y’know that, Rogers?” Steve’s mouth turns into a wide grin, his eyes crinkling. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Barnes.” 

°•. ✿ .•°

They manage to stumble back to Bucky’s place by 5am, stopping by a park on the way back to just sit and chat, their arms laced together as they lean on each other for balance. By then, the music has stopped and the party is quite clearly over but there’s a light still coming from the living room. 

“You wanna come inside?” Bucky asks, the alcohol in his system making him much bolder than he usually is. “Prob’ly not safe to walk home.” 

“You try’na get me into bed, Barnes?” Bucky has noticed two key things about Steve when he gets drunk; his Brooklyn accent comes out in a way very similar to Bucky’s (apparently, they’re from the same area) and Steve becomes very, _very_ flirty. 

“No,” Bucky very quickly defends, his face heating up. Whether he’s blushing or the alcohol is just getting to him, he doesn’t know, “jus’ wanted to be a good friend, that’s all.” 

“‘m just playin’, Barnes.” Bucky’s never had a thing for accents before, but Steve’s a rare exception. Something about the way his tongue curls around the syllables makes Bucky’s toes tingle. He tries to get rid of them by tapping his shoes to the concrete floor. No. Doesn’t work. 

“C’mon, Rogers. Lets get inside.” Bucky slurs, grabbing hold of his forearm to drag him through the unlocked door only to be met by Tony and Nat’s questioning gaze, both smirking at him like they’ve caught him doing something wrong. 

_“Had fun with the puppy?”_ Natasha questions in Russian, he thinks. Or maybe it’s Swedish. He’s not really sure. Except he is sure because he realises, very quickly, that he can’t speak Swedish but he can understand Nat. He feels like all his knowledge is being hidden under a dozen layers of clingfilm. 

_“Sorry for leaving the party early. Is he upset?”_ Nat shakes her head in response, giving him a smile Bucky’s foggy brain registers as being reassuring.

“Alright, casanova. You and your boy are obviously hammered. Go to bed.” Tony attempts to instruct, but the commanding tone falls short, cut by the mischievous smile spreading across Tony's face. When he turns around, he realises a couple of things very quickly. One, he’s still holding Steve by the forearm, his fingers landing over the prominent vein. Two, Steve’s eyes are dark, glazed over, and his lips are wet like he’s been licking them. Bucky really, really wants to kiss him, but that train of thought is interrupted by the sound of silverware in the background, snapping Bucky out of his trance as he lets go of Steve, mumbling a quick apology. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch?” Steve asks, but it’s more like a statement as he hauls his giant body onto the sofa, looking a bit like a seal jumping onto a boat to avoid an orca. Just, really big, with legs that stretch for at least 9 miles dangling over the armrest. Almost immediately, Steve's breathing evens out, paired with soft snores that signal that he's fallen asleep within a matter of seconds. 

“Night, Stevie.” Bucky whispers, making his way up the stairs to his own bedroom.


	4. Bucky Gets His Shit Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky makes progress but is still frustratingly oblivious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helloooo friends, if you're still reading this then thank you for reading it. i think this is the best chapter i've written so far just because i'm starting to write longer scenes now? i dont know. pls leave a comment, kudos, share, idk, whatever it is you feel like doing! let me know if you like it let me know if you don't. thanks to raven for proof reading this (again) you're a star and i love you. 
> 
> also this chapter hits the 10k mark? wow. thats a lot of words. there's a LOT more planned though 
> 
> come hang out with me on twitter @stcvengrant

Bucky wakes up feeling like approximately 870 bisons trampled him in his sleep and wonders if this was how Mufasa felt right before his death. He blinks his eyes open slowly, squinting at the sunlight that just manages to slip through his curtains and land directly in his face. Sneaky fucker, he thinks as he glares at his curtains that are doing a terrible job of curtain-ing, or whatever it’s called. He’s in the middle of assessing how he can rearrange his furniture so there’s never any light hitting him in the morning when Tony barges in, the loud thump of the door hitting the wall enough to make him cringe. He feels like there’s something inside his head brutally beating up his brain. 

“Morning, sunshine. Just wanted to let you know that your boy toy is asleep on the couch and because I’m the bestest friend slash roommate in the world, I brought you some coffee.” Bucky grumbles a thank you, not even bothering to correct Tony’s English like he usually would. He feels a heavy weight settle on his feet and looks up to see Tony sat on said feet, grinning mischievously down at him. Tony knows that Bucky is too hungover and tired to do anything about it, but Bucky is also too hungover and tired to give any shits right now. “Where did you two go last night? You were gone for like, a good 7 hours. That’s an impressive amount of time, Barnes.” 

“We had pizza then went to a park.” Bucky scowls into his coffee, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to wonder if it’s possible for your brain to clench. The whistle Tony lets out feels like a knife in his head.

“In a park, Barnes? That’s scandalous, impressive, even. Kids play there, y’know.” Only then does Bucky actually catch what Tony is trying to insinuate, and, surely enough, he’s met with a pair of suggestively wiggling eyebrows that look more like two anxious caterpillars than something that belongs on Tony’s face. Rolling his eyes, he shoves Tony weakly, unable to muster up the strength to do more. 

“One, that’s disgusting. Two, we didn’t have sex.” 

“You can tell me. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“And you promised you wouldn’t make fun of me, but yet, here we are.” Bucky shoots a glare at Tony, feeling his temper starting to flare. He really wants a shower right now and his mouth tastes like actual ass. 

“Hey, I said about your crush. This was a simple observation that lead to an incorrect conclusion.” Tony defends, getting up to head out. “But y’know, I wouldn’t mind if you did. You’ve both got really nice asses. Does he top? He seems like he’s a very versatile man-” Tony yelps as a fluffy pillow is hurled in his direction, ducking out the door to avoid it. The last Bucky hears is Tony’s loud obnoxious laughter and footsteps running down the stairs before the front door is shut. 

Placing the coffee cup on his nightstand, Bucky pushes himself off the bed to get ready and get some food in his system before he has to go about his day. He assesses his reflection in the mirror as he brushes his teeth, feeling a sliver of self consciousness about his appearance snake its way into his thoughts. There’s no easy way to put it. He looks like actual trash. His hair is greasy and standing up in all directions like a terrified hedgehog and his eyebags are deep enough that they challenge the marianas trench. Shower next, then. He feels marginally better afterwards, the cool water waking him up significantly and only then, does he realise just how truly hungry he is. 

As Bucky makes his way towards the living room, he combs a hand through his still wet hair, ruffling it in an attempt to make it dry faster. It’s a stupid move that doesn’t work, but it’s been ingrained in his system since the dawn of time so he does it anyway. When he reaches Steve, he can’t help but stare a little, the corners of his lips tugging up into a smile. The usually immaculate looking boy looks just as wrecked as Bucky did this morning, but somehow, Steve looks unfairly cute. Not that it should be a surprise to him, Steve is probably one of the most beautiful men Bucky’s ever seen in his life. Steve has the bone structure models would kill for, the contours of his cheekbones and jawline sharp like broken glass. Steve is huge, the way he’s curled up on the small couch is almost comical. If he tips forward slightly, Bucky is sure Steve would fall off the side. Even when compared to Bucky who’s not a small guy by any means, but whilst Bucky has a runner’s body from years of rugby and track, Steve is all muscle, his biceps straining the sleeves of his shirt. On top of that, Steve’s also got at least four inches on Bucky’s own height, a proud 5’9. He is _not_ short no matter what anyone says. God, he’s being so creepy. Just sitting here staring at the highlights and shadows dancing on Steve’s face as he sleeps.

“Hey.” Bucky murmurs, trying to shake Steve awake gently. He watches Steve’s eyes flutter, opening gently as they squint, finally focusing on Bucky’s face. 

“Bucky?” Steve seems to struggle with comprehending this, or remembering anything for a few minutes before his eyes widen in panic. He watches Steve’s eyes glance at the obnoxious purple NYU hoodie he’s got on, before glancing down at himself in the same button down he was wearing at the party and seems to sag in relief. It hits Bucky then where Steve’s train of thought immediately went, and he blushes bright red. Bucky is sure he’s blushing so hard that Australians would feel the heat radiating off his skin over their stupidly hot weather. 

“No! We didn’t- God. No. Sorry, I-” Bucky stutters, quickly removing his hand from where it’s resting on Steve’s _incredibly toned_ bicep. Steve’s blush seems to mirror Bucky’s, the ears that peak out from his short blonde strands turning the prettiest rosiest colour Bucky has ever seen. He kind of wants to kiss it. 

“I- Sorry. It’s just that when I’m drunk, I tend to...Nevermind. That’s not important.” Bucky, despite himself, feels his gut clench with something unpleasant at the thought of Steve hooking up with someone else. He’s being ridiculous, Steve is a fully grown man who’s at least 21 years old, he’s allowed to do whatever the hell he wants with whoever he wants.

“You staying for breakfast?” Bucky questions, getting up and heading straight to the kitchen. He’s usually so good with things like this, flirting and making the other person more flustered than he is. Instead, just a look and a minor misunderstanding had made him a bumbling, blushing mess. Almost like one of those stupid school girls he keeps seeing on those stupid TV shows Becca, his little sister, is always watching. 

“Uh. That depends.” Steve’s voice is rough and scratchy from sleep, and makes Bucky wonder, if God exists, why he likes torturing him so much. 

“On?” 

“What are the choices?” He turns around in time to see Steve rolling up his sleeves, the top few buttons of his shirt undone to expose more muscled flesh. Steve’s hair is sticking up in a manner similar to Bucky’s this morning, but unlike his ruffled and unkempt appearance, Steve looks boyish and adorable. He briefly wonders if this is what Steve looks like after sex, after fingers have been running through his hair all night, ruining the effort he put into styling his hair. Bucky swallows, licks his lips and forces himself to take a long, deep breath to cool himself down. He doesn’t know why Steve is having this effect, it’s not like he’s in love with him. He forces himself to tear his eyes from the sight, quickly swiveling around and hating himself for how fast his heart is beating.

“Expired pancake batter, eggs and like, a single cucumber.” Bucky lists off, trying to stay focused on the contents of his fridge as well as he can. 

“Sure. There’s nothing I love more than a fucking cucumber for breakfast.” Steve deadpans, and Bucky doesn’t even _notice_ how much closer Steve’s voice is until he straightens, turns around and their faces are at most a few inches apart. 

“Yeah. Me too. Healthy or whatever.” He slips around Steve, heading to the cupboards. 

“Y’know, we can always get something to eat instead? Cafes should be open by now.” Steve suggests and holy shit, it’s 1pm. He’s still got so much to do and he hasn’t even begun, so of course, the only logical answer when Steve asks you to get food is to say yes, no matter how busy you are. Bucky picks up his phone, wallet and keys before he follows Steve out the door. 

“What exactly happened last night?” Steve questions, hands in the pockets of his jeans as they walk down the pavement.

“We had pizza, got really fucking drunk, then sat in a park.” Bucky explains, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. 

“I didn’t do anything embarrassing, did I?” Steve worries his bottom lip between his teeth, nervousness evident on his face. 

“Nothing, really,” Bucky grins cheekily, “you’re just a really cuddly drunk. Kinda flirty too. Didn’t know you were a Brooklyn boy, Stevie.” He feels momentarily relieved as he falls into the familiar charming self he usually is. Bless America. 

“Oh, yeah. Brooklyn boy through and through.” Steve allows some more of his accent to creep into his voice, and Bucky takes that as a challenge, matching Steve’s accent with his own. 

“Oh, yeah? Me too.” 

“Really? I didn’t hear that yesterday.” 

“Yeah, went to Midwood.” Midwood was Bucky’s high school, an impressive private school known for its snobby trust fund kids that he could really only afford on his 75% scholarship. He hated every single minute there and only survived through his looks and charm alone. Steve looks impressed, his eyebrows raising. 

“Damn. Tha’s fancy, Buck. I went to Lehman.” 

“Thanks. Couldn’t’ve afforded it without my scholarship, though.” 

“Damn, Barnes. Cute n’ smart, huh?” Bucky feels his whole body heat up from his head to his toes. He looks like a fucking tomato in a stupid oversized purple hoodie right now. He feels Steve bump into him gently, flashing him a reassuring smile as his accent returns back to normal. “I’m just messing with you. Y’know, it’s kinda strange to let my accent- I dunno- do that, it used to only come out like that around my family.” 

“Yeah. I get that.” Bucky links his arm with Steve’s, mirroring his smile as they enter the coffee shop. “I’ll grab us a table. I want my usual, please.” Bucky lets go of Steve and instantly regrets it as he sees the girl at the cashier flash him a him with the same interest Bucky has seen a million times on other people’s faces, a mixture of interest and curiosity. Bucky’s hands clench into fists as he scowls at the scene, watching Steve talk to the admittedly very pretty blonde woman. He slumps back into his chair, tipping it back to balance on its back legs, his arms crossing in front of him like a stupid child throwing a stupid tantrum. Fuck Steve. Fuck him and his stupidly handsome smile, and wide shoulders, and broad chest, and long legs. Fuck how he can charm the pants off of anyone he meets. Fuck how he seems so oblivious to the fact that he’s so handsome, only adding to how endearing he is and fuck-

“Woah, Buck. You okay? What happened whilst I was gone?” Bucky startles, nearly falling off his seat in the process, only to be saved by Steve who catches his chair in one hand and pushes him back up to sitting position. “Careful there.” Bucky forces a smile onto his face, grabbing his drink from the tray. 

“I’m fine. Why? What gave you the idea that I wasn’t okay?” His eye twitches as he spies the number on Steve’s drink. “So...you gonna ask her out or something?” 

“Nah.” Steve wraps his tissue around his cup, covering up the number. Bucky feels a sense of smug satisfaction. “Not enough time to date.”

“But you said yes when you thought I was asking you out.” 

“Guess I did, huh?” Steve’s eyebrows raise, daring him to ask further. The stupid, smooth motherfucker. “So, what’re you doing over summer break?”

They spend the next hour or so sitting at that cafe, chatting enthusiastically about any topic they can come up with. Bucky, despite the initial nervousness that has been haunting him all morning, actually enjoys himself. He manages to slip back into his usual smooth self, returning Steve’s jabs with some of his own, and if he even starts flirting a little, that’s only for him and Steve to know. 

°•. ✿ .•°

“You’re being gross, and lovesick, and I hate it.” Nat scowls at him over the table. They’re in the library now and Bucky has gotten zero work done despite their initial plans to study. Nat really thought a change of environment would help him concentrate but all he could do was think about Steve. He thinks about how comfortable he is around Steve, how well their banter just flows, how well they click. God, he’s so gross. “Hey,” Nat snaps her fingers in front of his face, hissing, “earth to Barnes.” 

“I’m not lovesick.” Bucky defends, pursing his lips to suppress a smile.

“It’s Rogers, isn’t it? You’ve got a full blown crush, huh?” Nat questions, a perfectly plucked eyebrow raising questioningly. What is it with people and their eyebrows around him?

“I don’t have a crush on Rogers.” Bucky scowls. He looks down at his textbook, noticing the word ‘Steve’ written all over the page in different fonts. He turns the page. 

“You forget how well I know you.” Nat accuses, her studies completely abandoned as she focuses on her interrogation of him instead. Sometimes, he wonders how any of them pass any of their classes. 

“I don’t have a crush on him!” Bucky repeats, huffing in annoyance as he picks up his pen, going back to annotating his textbook.  
“Oh yeah? So you _won’t_ blush bright red if I tell you that you were clinging to each other last night like a bunch of high school kids?” As if on cue, he feels his skin heat up again. His skin is a traitor and he hates his body. 

“I don’t have a crush! He’s just...really cute, is all.” Bucky defends helplessly, waving his hands in the air like he’s a fucking seal trying to get a treat, except that treat is to be let out of his conversation. 

“Well, if you don’t like him, then I guess I’ll go for him instead. He’s cute even for my standards.” Despite himself, his head shoots up at that as he feels a scowl take over his features momentarily, before he’s able to smooth it away. Nat’s smile practically informs him that he lost. He’s not really sure what, but he lost something. “Relax. I’m just messing with you. You know I’ve got my eyes set on someone else.” He feels himself deflating, like a sad, heartbroken balloon. Logically, he knows Nat and Clint have been dancing around each other since the beginning of time, with Nat being very aware of his crush and Clint being very unaware of hers. He would feel a little sorry for the boy if it wasn’t for how amusing it all was to see Clint’s flustered face whenever Nat stands a little bit too close to him. “Look, just ask him on a date. What’s the worst that can happen?” 

“He’ll say no, tell everyone, everyone will find out I’ve been stalking him, the police will get involved, I’ll get expelled and get put in prison for the rest of my life for stalking in the first degree.” Nat seems to consider this for a moment.

“What’s the physical injury caused as a result of the stalking in this scenario?” 

“My heart.” 

“That doesn’t qualify as a physical injury- or stalking, Barnes.” 

“I’m gonna fail my exam and I actually hate you.”

“Okay,” Leaning back in her chair, Nat seems to consider his options for a minute, “go ask him for his number.” Which, of course, Bucky didn’t even think of doing, because he’s stupid and an actual fucking grandpa. 

“What if he takes it as flirting again?” If looks could kill, Nat would’ve already shot him with a laser then proceeded to beat the shit out of him in anger, but only ends up whipping out her phone and completely ignoring him. “Like, okay, I like him a lot, but you also know how difficult it is to be in law school. I’m barely getting by as it is, I don’t need to be more distracted by a cute boy who I barely even-” 

“Done.” Nat cuts him off, which, wow, rude, but then he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Squinting at her suspiciously, he pulls out his phone and reads the text he just received. 

_From: Natasha Romanov_  
_Steve’s number: 646-000-0000_  
_(Received 14:52)_

“Nat, how did you get this?” Bucky feels his mouth going dry and his hands sweat a little at the thought of texting Steve. He feels like Eminiem during Lose Yourself except he doesn’t have his mum’s spaghetti on his sweater. 

“I have my ways. Now just text him already and stop acting like a stupid teenage school girl.” His question is answered when his phone vibrates in his hand again, but this time with much worse news. 

_From: Tony Stark_  
_finally got the courage to text hercules??? proud of u kid_  
_Received 14:58)_

He hates Tony.

Nat, thankfully, drops it after that, and after another half hour of being unable to focus on what used to be his textbook but now looks to him like a letter pasta, Bucky decides to call it for now and take a break. There’s no point in studying now when he can’t focus, he won’t get anything done and it’ll just be a waste of time. 

°•. ✿ .•°

Bucky manages to avoid texting Steve for the rest of the day. No, he’s not procrastinating or running away, he’s just- busy. Yeah. He’s busy. Shut up. 

Really, Bucky’s aware of how ridiculous he’s being. He just doesn’t really know what to say, it’s not like he and Steve are super close best friends he can text whenever he wants. Steve’s busy too, probably busier than Bucky, because whilst Bucky is a spoiled kid who doesn’t need to worry about paying his own tuition, Steve does. He suddenly feels really guilty about bothering Steve so often. 

_To: Clint Barton_  
how to text cute boys ?? sos  
(Sent 19:17) 

_From: Clint Barton_  
hit them up w like a rly good pick up line or smth  
(Received 19:17) 

_To: Clint Barton_  
like what?  
(Sent 19:17) 

_From: Clint Barton_  
im in the mood for pizza  
(Received 19:18) 

_To: Clint Barton_  
how does this relate ???  
(Sent 19:18) 

_From: Clint Barton_  
pizza you  
(Received 19:18) 

Bucky hates all of his friends, but specifically Clint. 

So Bucky tries a new angle, because Bruce has specifically asked to be left out of this mess, Nat would kill him and Tony would never let it go. Bucky turns to the only other person he knows will be of help. 

“Hello, sweetheart.” The familiar voice comes to the phone and suddenly Bucky is hit with a wave of homesickness he hasn’t felt in a while. 

“Ma. I need your help.” He hears shuffling in the background. Distantly, he can hear his dad and his sister bickering. 

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“I met this really cool boy and I don’t know how to text him.” The line is quiet for at least 20 seconds. It’s so quiet that Bucky has to pull his phone from his ear to make sure his mum hasn’t hung up on him for being so stupid. 

“James, you’re a piece of work, you know that?” Bucky groans, flopping onto his back on the bed. Even his own mother knows he’s being stupid. 

“I thought you were supposed to support me no matter how lame I am.” 

“You’re right, sorry, love. Just be yourself.” Bucky screws his eyes shut and sighs, running a hand down his face. 

“Ma, you don’t get boys like Steve to like you by being yourself. He’s too cool for that. You gotta be like, cooler than you’ve ever been before to impress him.” 

“James, if he’s truly a good man, then he’ll learn to appreciate everything including the less societally typically cool people. If he’s really that judgemental that he writes someone off for not sticking to the norm, do you really want to date a guy like that anyway?” His mother makes a great point, actually, and it’s probably the best piece of advice he’s gotten since he started not-stalking his not-crush. 

“Thanks, ma.” He really misses his mother right now. Only a month left of his hell before he can go home and see her again. “And I don’t want to date him. I just, I wanna be his friend.”

“No problem, sweetheart. So, tell me about him- Steve, is it?” So he does, he spends the next hour on the phone with his mother just ranting on about everything that has happened in the last month or two. Seeing him at the coffee shop, the not-stalking, the party, how his friends keep bothering him about having a crush on Steve when he really, really doesn’t. He swears. And throughout, his mum just listens and offers advice wherever she deems necessary, but really, if there was a way to mentally hold his mother’s hand whilst he talks to Steve, he would. After saying his goodbyes, Bucky opens a new chat with Steve’s number and takes a deep breath. He can do this. 

_To: Steve Rogers_  
hey, it’s bucky barnes. i hope you don’t mind, i got your number from tony.  
(Sent 20:33) 

He rereads his text at least 10 times before sending it and immediately cringes at how formal it sounds. God he’s stupid. He should text Steve like he texts Tony. Except, he shouldn’t because he texts Tony like he’s a fucking grade 9 kid who just discovered what emojis were. It’s about 5 minutes later when the familiar ping of his phone informs him he just received another text, jumping off his bed in excitement.

_From: Steve Rogers_  
Hey Buck. It’s no problem, it’s nice to hear from you. How are you? Hope your hangover’s gone  
(Received 20:33) 

Bucky does not, he swears, he does not squeal. Steve said it was nice to hear from him and okay, whilst Steve texts like he’s a middle aged mother, the message still makes him feel all warm and giddy inside. How long should be wait before he texts back? Should he go for the 60 second rule? He starts counting in his head, but stops when he reaches 20 and not for the first time, realises he’s being a fucking loser. 

_To: Steve Rogers_  
im as good as new! you?  
(Sent 20:34) 

_From: Steve Rogers_  
Glad to hear it.  
(Received 20:34) 

_From: Steve Rogers_  
I’m alright too. Hangover’s gone now so just trying to catch up on all my work ASAP.  
(Received 20:35) 

_To: Steve Rogers_  
am i disrupting your work??  
(Sent 20:35) 

_From: Steve Rogers_  
No, but I do need to concentrate on this.  
(Sent 20:35) 

_From: Steve Rogers_  
We should meet up at some point though.  
(Sent 20:36) 

_From: Steve Rogers_  
Wanna go watch the new fast and furious movie tmr?  
(Sent 20:36) 

Bucky’s expression morphs from an involuntary pout to a wide grin in a matter of seconds, quickly replying with an affirmative before opening up his chat with Natasha. He’s practically wiggling, unable to contain the sheer amount of excitement as he informs her of the news. 

_To: Natasha Romanov_  
WE’RE GOING TO SEE A MOVIE!!!!!  
(Sent 20:37) 


	5. Bucky's Life Falls Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends i'm back with another chapter because it's the holidays, i'm bored and i've got nothing else to do. i hope your day has been going well. as always if you're still reading thank you i really appreciate it! leave me a comment, kudos, etc. they make my day better i smile whenever i see one and thank you to raven for proof reading this for me (again) and being as supportive as you are. ilysm! 
> 
> enjoy the chapter! <3 we're about a third of the way through now plot wise. time has gone by so fast

Bucky frowns at himself in the mirror, turning to the side to assess how his ass looks in the jeans he’s wearing for the third time. He sighs, pulling out his phone to quickly google ‘first date outfit ideas male’, then quickly realises his mistake. It’s not a date. Bucky doesn’t have the time or the energy to date. This is just him meeting up with a friend like friends do in a friendly way...right? It’s a not-date with his not-crush. Perfectly not confusing. He assesses the outfits that appear on his screen, all of them look stupid and would probably make him look like a high school kid again.

He spends the next ten minutes changing in and out of the many t-shirts in his closet until his floor is a mess of shirts of various colours, huffing in annoyance at himself. He literally just cleaned his room. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about this date of yours?” Tony barges into his room, throwing himself onto Bucky’s bed like he belongs there.

“Sure, welcome to my room. Thanks for knocking in advance, Tony. I could’ve been naked.” Bucky mutters sarcastically, levelling a glare at the smaller boy. “And it’s not a date!”

“Wouldn’t that be something.” Tony grins cheekily at Bucky before nodding towards his phone. “You alright there? You look like someone just ate your cat.” 

“One, that’s really fucking morbid, and two,” Bucky hesitates, looking down at his phone then back up at Tony, assessing the risks and benefits of letting him know, “I don’t know what to wear.” After hopping off the bed, Tony makes his way to his closet, looking through the various clothing items he has with an interested hum. After a minute or so, Tony throws a loose white v neck at Bucky, one where the cut goes really low. 

“Here, wear this. Let those man titties shine.” 

“I don’t know why I ever ask you for help.” Bucky grumbles, but does it anyway, quickly stripping and pulling the white shirt over his head. His reflection answers his question for him, he looks really good. 

“See,” A smug grin forms on Tony’s lips, proud of his work as he gives Bucky’s chest a quick pat, “beautiful man titties.” 

“Thanks. I think.” He grabs the necessities and follows Tony out into the living room, taking a seat on one of the dining table chairs as Tony picks up the butcher knife and begins cutting up their last cucumber into small slices. 

“We need groceries.” Tony grumbles. 

“Tony, buddy, what the fuck are you doing?” Bucky cringes, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he watches his roommate wave the knife around in a way that makes him _very_ nervous. 

“We don’t have any other clean knives.” Sometimes, Bucky wonders just how he and Tony have survived living with each other for a whole year when they’re both messes. He looks into the sink, frowning at the plates and various cutlery balancing precariously on top of each other. 

“We need to get our shit together.” He gets waved off with the knife. 

°•. ✿ .•°

Steve, to nobody’s surprise, turns out to basically be a perfect gentleman. He’s such a perfect gentleman that Bucky would suspect Steve of doing all of this just for the sake of _appearing_ that way as opposed to actually being that way. It’s charming in a strange sort of chivalrous 1980s type, until it gets in the way of Bucky trying to be a gentleman too.

“No, c’mon, Steve. You’ve already paid for the tickets, lemme pay for this.” Bucky whines later that night when they’re at the theatre, practically slapping a 20 dollar bill on the table before Steve can even reach for his wallet. Steve, along with being a gentleman, proves to be a sneaky little fucker. He bought the tickets before Bucky could even get there, and attempted to do the same with the snacks but his indecisiveness slowed him down, allowing Bucky to order and pay before Steve could try to out-gentleman him again. 

“Alright then.” Steve’s lips curl up into a smirk that has Bucky gripping his drink a little too hard. 

“So, you a fan of fast and furious?” Bucky clears his throat, attempting to come off as cool and nonchalant as Steve currently does, no doubt failing horribly. It was worth a shot. 

“Honestly, not really. I only go now to make fun of the movies and count how many times they say some stupid, cheesy line. It’s a drinking game between me and my buddies. You?” Bucky shrugs, already devouring the popcorn before they even make it into the theatre. 

“It’s alright. I watch for the sake of knowing what’s up, I guess.” Bucky finally takes the time to notice Steve fully as they make their way into the theatre. He’s wearing a white t-shirt at least two sizes too small underneath a red bomber jacket and a pair of tight jeans. Bucky is so distracted by the way the fabric stretches out across his broad shoulders and back that he doesn’t hear Steve calling his name until he reaches out to poke him in the side, and that’s when everything goes to shit. Bucky lets out the most indignant squeak he’s ever heard, sounding more like an angry parrot ready to strike than a person as he _just_ manages to hold onto both the popcorn and drinks with minimal spillage. And Steve, the fucker, is just dying of laughter next to him.

“I’m so, so sorry.” He wheezes, one hand clutching at his chest. He’s laughing so hard he’s practically shaking, his forehead coming down to rest on Bucky’s shoulder for support. “Buck-- I didn’t know you were ticklish-- I--” That’s just unfair. Bucky can’t even find it in himself to be mad at Steve because he’s just _so fucking cute._ Instead, he just can’t hold back the affectionate grin that forces its way onto his face as he watches Steve practically die with laughter. 

“Alright, big guy, it really wasn’t that funny.” Bucky nudges Steve with his elbow, causing him to break into another fit of giggles beside him, and yeah, it might have not been that funny but the way Steve is practically dying makes Bucky start giggling too, and soon enough, they’re two idiots laughing hysterically in the middle of the theatre. He’s sure he looks insane, but he’s feeling way too good to care right now. Steve finally takes a deep breath, lifting his head from Bucky’s shoulder to dramatically wipe a tear from his eye. 

“You sound like a dying bird,” is what he finally says, wrapping an arm around Bucky’s shoulder to pull him into the theatre. 

Really, Bucky should’ve expected Steve to be difficult to watch a movie with. Not because there’s anything wrong with Steve, per say, but rather his obliviousness to one, how cute he is, and two, how nervous that makes Bucky. Or perhaps he does know and he’s using his cuteness to his advantage because he thinks it’s funny. It could really be either at this point.

Though, he swears it’s the latter, because whenever he reaches for the popcorn, Steve’s hand seems to already be there, causing Bucky’s fingers to brush against his. Or whenever there’s a particularly funny scene, Steve just leans into Bucky as he giggles. Steve also has this terrible, terrible habit of licking his lips clean of the popcorn dust every minute or so, the pink tongue darting out to sweep over his plump bottom lip. Every time he does something like this, Bucky feels his heart rate accelerate like it’s trying to break his ribs and jump straight out of his chest. He feels the familiar electric thrum he feels whenever he’s around Steve under his skin, just harder, like music they play too loudly in clubs dancing in his fingers. 

At one point in particular, after they finish the popcorn, Steve licks the dust off his fingers before wiping it down with a wet wipe, and Bucky nearly pops a boner right there in his pants like some teenager going through puberty. He panics, remembering the tightness of his jeans and how it really wouldn’t hide _anything_ if Steve decided to look down. He tries to think about literally anything else that comes to mind - puppies, chickens, his baby teeth in a jar collected by his parents, a horse sleeping upright, cows running towards each other in the field, Joe Jonas saying ‘oh, how the tables have turned’, the Rock appearing on Hannah Montana. He manages, only just, to calm down before Steve turns around to catch his eye and offer a bright smile. 

Bucky deserves an award for managing to make it through the movie, only having to leave once to calm himself down after Steve tugged off his bomber jacket, his white t-shirt moving up to expose the bottom of his abs in the process. Bucky is so, so fucked. 

“That was fun.” Steve mumbles after the movie ends, tossing the empty box of popcorn into the bin on their way out. Fun isn’t exactly the word he would use for this situation, he doesn’t remember any time in his life he’s had such a hard time keeping his dick in his pants, even when he was a stupid, hormonal teenager watching Titantic for the first time. Bucky can’t help but notice that Steve still hasn’t put his jacket back on and the outline of his back is clear through the thin material. 

“Yeah, it was better than expected, nothing special though.” Bucky gives the most vague answer he can give because truth be told, he doesn’t really remember what happened over the last two and a half hours where Steve isn’t concerned. 

“Yeah. They’re really stretching out this series.” Bucky just nods, not knowing what to say next. He’s a dirty, dirty liar who spends way too much time thinking about the way his friend looks in a plain white t-shirt, and how you can practically see the outlines of his body through the material. He thinks this is probably karma for that time he put their dad’s shitty cologne in Becca’s shampoo, which failed terribly as he ended up having to be around that smell for the next two weeks too. “You wanna come back to my place for dinner?” Steve offers, and Bucky can’t help it, he really can’t. He lets a wide grin spread across his face, quirking an eyebrow up in response. 

“Are you asking me to come home with you, Rogers?” Bucky feels a sense of satisfaction at the way Steve’s face turns pink like a little strawberry, feeling like he’s finally caught Steve off guard for once. 

“What if I was?” And okay, that’s really not fair. He’s not allowed to recover that quickly when one comment from Steve has Bucky a bumbling mess for the next two minutes minimum. 

“Only if there’s Chinese takeout involved.” Steve laughs, a pretty, full body laugh as he tugs Bucky along by the elbow. 

“C’mon, dork. Lets go.” 

They find themselves eating Chinese food on the floor of Steve’s living room that evening as they watch youtube videos on said man’s laptop. 

“Look at him, Buck! He’s so cute!” Steve coos, dropping his chopsticks to fully appreciate the baby corgi running across the screen. They’ve been sat there for at least 30 minutes now, watching random episodes of Too Cute as they devour the excessive amount of food they ordered. Bucky watches the tiny puppy struggle on his tiny legs to make his way up the stairs, pouting as he watches, letting out a noise that sounds oddly like a sob. 

“He’s just. He’s so cute. I can’t.” 

It takes them another 20 minutes to finish the rest of their food, and Bucky can’t say he’s not disappointed to leave. He loves being home, but he loves hanging out with Steve more and has to decline Steve’s offer for him to stay over no matter how much he wants to. 

“Sorry, I want to but I’ve got things to do before tomorrow with Tony. We gotta sort out the money and all that.” 

“Here,” Steve takes the red jacket and practically shoves it into Bucky’s hands, “don’t look at me like that. It’s getting cold out and your shirt is paper thin.” To say Bucky was happy would be an understatement. He’s practically skipping, a smile on his face the entire way home. The jacket is too big for him, a little too long, the sleeves going past his hands to form sweater paws. Bucky isn’t small, Steve is just really, really big. 

“Did you fuck him yet?” Tony questions immediately as Bucky steps inside, whistling lowly as he takes in the jacket. “That’s his favourite jacket, Barnes. There’s no way you aren’t getting some now-” Tony yelps as Bucky tackles him to the floor, shouting apologies until he finally lets go, grumbling about stupid rugby players thinking they can fix their problems by attacking it. 

°•. ✿ .•°

Steve and Bucky end up developing a routine over the next two weeks or so. Everyday, Bucky would go into the Starbucks to work and if their schedules line up, then Steve would come sit with Bucky after his shift was over, starting up a conversation about anything he could. They fall into an easy rhythm, their personalities immediately clicking and their banter easy. The flirty nature of their conversations persists, with Steve teasing him every chance he gets and Bucky taking jabs back just as well. 

“So,” Steve starts, startling the half asleep Bucky as he pulls out the chair across from him, “I’ve been thinking of volunteering at the dog shelter.” Bucky blinks stupidly, feeling a bit like a confused owl as he tries to process the information. His head his still swimming with International Trade Laws, and so he lets out a noise that’s between a bleh and a huh, hoping it would convey his confusion. He wouldn’t be surprised if his brain was literally dying right at the moment. “Dog walking. I want to volunteer.” 

“Oh, why not?” And if that isn’t the most unfair thing Bucky has heard all day. Steve fulfills his mother’s 3Cs rule when it comes to boys to a T - cute, charming, chivalrous. Bucky doesn’t own a picture dictionary, but he’s sure if he did, then there would be a photo of Steve under the definition of all those words, and probably others, like Dorito. 

“You should do it with me.” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair as he speaks. Bucky has come to the conclusion that the little fucker knows exactly what he’s doing and how. There’s no way someone can be as unknowingly flawless and adorable as Steve.

“Sure.” Bucky answers, because he hates himself and whilst he knows indulgence is dangerous, the way Steve’s eyes change into half moons would be enough to convince Bucky to do just about anything. It’s a small price to pay for that smile. 

Part of him didn’t actually take Steve seriously when he suggested the idea, though, and so it’s not his fault that he’s surprised by a text a day later of Steve taking a selfie with quite possibly the fluffiest Pomeranian Bucky has ever seen looking extremely tiny in Steve’s massive hand. His heart feels like it’s physically melting in his chest in the best way possible, like his heart has turned into chocolate and Bucky is the toasty marshmallow. 

_From: Steve Rogers_  
 _We’ll be walking little guys like him tomorrow at 5. Don’t be late!_  
 _(Attachment)_   
_(Received 17:25)_

Who is Bucky to deny Steve anything? 

Bucky isn’t expecting to be met with a massive 150 pound rottweiler tackling him to the floor when he enters the shelter he’s volunteered them at. He has a momentary panic of holy shit I’m going to die by giant dog when he realises the dog isn’t dangerous at all and is, in fact, currently rubbing his face on Bucky’s chest like it’s his one life goal to get his fur all over Bucky’s black t-shirt. 

“Sorry! So sorry.” Steve’s breathless laugh comes from behind the dog, the weight getting lifted off of him as said man tugs on the leash a little, before offering a hand to pull Bucky up from the floor. 

“It’s okay. You’re a sweet one, could be worse, really.” Bucky looks down at the sweet face of the dog panting up at him as he pets the dog’s head, cooing softly as he nuzzles his head against Bucky’s palm. 

“Well, good, because he’s yours for the next hour. Bucky, meet Boomer. You guys basically have the same name because you act the same.” Bucky narrows his eyes. 

“Oh, yeah? And how do we act, Rogers?”

“Cute and cuddly but sloppy and eat way too much for your own good.” Steve manages to duck the punch aimed towards his bicep, laughing as he turns back to leash and walk his own dog by the name of Sunshine. Really, it’s a cheesy name, but it’s adorable and matches the dog’s own lively personality. 

°•. ✿ .•°

Bucky should’ve known there was no way life would stay on his side for that long. Is he being dramatic? Probably. Does he care? No. He sighs, sneaking another glance at Steve and the dark haired woman in the restaurant, the familiar, bright smile wide on Steve’s face. Whilst usually, just the sight of it is enough to bring a smile to Bucky’s lips, today, it makes his gut twist in a weird mix of jealousy and self hatred. He feels like somebody physically reached into his stomach and started rearranging all his internal organs. 

He knows he’s being stupid. He’s being the stupid, uncommunicative lead in a romantic comedy. He keeps telling Steve that he has no time to date, so he has to accept it when Steve gives up and finally goes out with someone else. It was a matter of time anyway, with Steve being so handsome and charming, any girl or boy would fall head over heels in love with him in a matter of minutes. 

He slams the door just a little bit too hard once he gets home, catching the attention of Tony sitting on the living room couch. 

“Hey, Bucko. You’re back…” Tony trails off as he catches the expression on Bucky’s face. Tony may be a lot of things, but he also knows when to shut up, spreading his arms to offer Bucky a hug. Sighing, Bucky drops his backpack on the floor and practically collapses into the smaller man. 

“Tony, I’m stupid.” Bucky mumbles into the crook of Tony’s neck, sniffling slightly. He’s so stupid. He’s being so incredibly stupid. 

“How about we call over the rest of the gang and then we can have a therapy session over pizza and drinks?” Tony suggests, giving Bucky’s back a pat. Despite his best efforts, Tony is the most emotionally closed off of all of them and really doesn’t know how to deal with sad people, let alone sad, crying people. It only takes the rest of the gang 30 minutes to arrive. Nat arrives first holding a bag containing two bottles of vodka and a shit ton of beer, allowing Bucky to sulk with his head on her lap whilst they wait for the others. Clint and Bruce arrive at the same time, with the former carrying three boxes of pizza and the latter carrying what seems to be fries and chicken. 

“It’s therapy night!” Clint announces way too cheerfully for the topic at hand, plopping down next to Tony on the floor. 

“You alright, there?” Bruce is probably the most well adjusted and emotionally available out of the five of them and it shows as he pats Bucky’s knee before taking a seat on the beanbag Tony took out specifically for this situation. It’s their therapy beanbag.

“No.” Bucky grumbles, finally sitting up from where his head was resting in Nat’s lap, her hand that had been previously stroking through the strands of his hair falling to rest by her side. “Yes. I don’t know. I’m being stupid. Really, I don’t have the right to feel like this.” Bucky swallows, feeling a sense of gratitude well up inside him at the generosity of his friends. They can be assholes but they’re there for him when he needs it. He knows he won’t ever deserve this, not in a million years. “I saw Steve out on a date today.” He starts, gratefully taking the slice of pizza Clint hands him. “And I know it’s my fault, okay? I kept denying it and telling myself I didn’t like him and telling him that I was too busy to date so I know it’s my fault, but we watched a movie and hung out in his apartment like, two days ago, and it was so good. I miss him.” Bucky pouts around his mouthful of pizza. 

“You have the right to feel like this, Bucky,” Bruce starts, waving his own piece of pizza in the air, “you don’t have the right to take it out on him, but you have the right to feel like this. You’re infatuated with the dude, of course you’re gonna be heartbroken if you see him with someone else.” Bucky considers this bit of advice for a moment and he guesses it makes sense. He’s allowed to be heartbroken, and sad, and pouty, because he really likes the boy but as long as he’s not negatively affecting anyone else, including said boy, then all should be fine. 

“Why didn’t you just go for it?” Clint questions, cocking his head at Bucky in confusion. “He did ask you out, right?” Bucky sighs, leaning back onto the couch cushions. 

“I don’t know, honestly, and now he’s moved on. So I guess I gotta as well, right?” Bucky takes another large bite of his pizza, chewing harshly on the cheap cheese and dough like if he just chews hard enough, it’ll solve all his problems. Maybe there’s a cheese god he can pray to. 

“Right.” Tony replies, shooting a very familiar grin that would normally make Bucky very nervous, but is now surprisingly comforting, “besides, Barnes, anyone would be lucky to get a piece of that ass.” The whole room groans. 

“Alright, I think it’s time for some romcoms.” Clint declares, getting to his feet and selecting To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before on the fancy Netflix option Tony has installed because he’s a rich piece of shit and Bucky’s just lucky he got to live with him.

As much as he likes to pretend he doesn’t, Bucky really loves his friends more than anything. If he really starts to think about it, he’ll start to cry at how overwhelmingly lovely they all are. On a Wednesday night, in the middle of exam season, they all really just dropped their plans last minute to come help him out of his stupid, self inflicted pain. But then if Bucky starts crying, Clint will start crying, and then Nat and Bruce will be stuck comforting the two whilst Tony tries to run away from the emotional chaos. So he just takes a swig of his drink, watching Lara Jean attempt to convince herself that she is _not_ in love with Peter Kavinsky as he leans into Tony’s side. 

°•. ✿ .•°

Bucky thinks there’s some cosmic entity that hates him or sees his life as a game. Like one of those sadistic people who just kill off their sim for seeing their sim suffer, but instead of killing him, he’s being tortured slowly until he gives up and moves out. This time it’s his exams that all go badly at the same time and he’s really starting to, for the first time, seriously consider if law is the right path for him. 

Bucky needs a distraction. 

So obviously the only thing to do is to join a self defense class and learn how to shoot a gun. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly because according to Tony he was born to be an assassin, he’s really good at it. It almost works, but every time he goes in for target practice he can’t help but channel the rage and anger he feels into the gun, and then everything goes to shit from there. Now whenever he shoots the gun, all he can see is Steve with the pretty, dark haired woman in the restaurant and it fucks up his mood even more. 

Next on his list of distractions is probably the worst one yet, tattoos. He doesn’t even know where to begin, he doesn’t know if he’s ever even seen a tattoo shop, which is a really fucking stupid thought to have because he lives in New York and there’s probably tattoo shops around every corner, but how does he make sure he’s going to a good one. 

_To: Natasha Romanov_  
 _where can i get a tattoo ??_   
_(Sent 15:28)_

 _From: Natasha Romanov_  
 _Don’t get a sadtoo_   
_(Received 15:29)_

 _To: Natasha Romanov_  
 _whats a sadtoo ??_   
_(Sent 15:29)_

 _From: Natasha Romanov_  
 _A tattoo you get when you’re sad_   
_(Received 15:29)_

Okay, Natasha is off the list of help. So he consults GoogleReviews instead, and spends about ten minutes reading three reviews that are all completely useless to helping him achieve his sadtoo. Somehow, all three of them complain about how they got a tattoo of their ex on their ass when they were drunk and now it’s permanently stuck there, like tattoos tend to be. He ends up filtering the shops by the most highly rated and goes from there, taking the bus and heading to his destination. All in all, this is a terrible idea but a great distraction. 

“Do you have an appointment?” The lady behind the counter asks, and Bucky is more than a little bit scared of her. He’s not one to stereotype so it’s not because she’s got tattoos on every bit of skin she has exposed minus her face, but it’s because she’s looking at him like she would rather place her hand in a pot of boiling water than have a conversation with another piece of shit looking to get a sadtoo. 

“No.” Bucky, refusing to be intimidated, stands to his full height, his back straightening and shoulders pushed back. “How do I go about getting a tattoo?” The woman just blinks at him and damn, he really should’ve done some research before he did this. 

“Listen kid,” Bucky scowls, he’s not a kid, he doesn’t even look like a kid anymore, “I know your type. You’re obviously going through something and you’re just gonna end up getting this tattoo covered up in the future. It’s a waste of your time and money.” He feels himself deflate, sighing. Really, he knows she’s right, and he knows Nat was right when he told her not to get a sadtoo, but he really can’t stop thinking about Steve. 

“You’re right. Sorry for wasting your time, ma’am.” He gives her a nod only to be stopped by her sigh followed by a hand on his elbow. 

“Come inside and tell us about her.” He ends up having another therapy session but this time surrounded by tattooed, scarily buff men who seem intimidating but are really actually incredibly sweet. 

“-And I know it’s my fault for not jumping to ask him out when I had the chance, but I can’t help it.” He finishes, sighing dejectedly as he pops his lollipop back in his mouth. The men around him don’t believe he’s 21 yet, which, fair, he might not look 17 but he surely doesn’t look 21, so they settled with some apple juice and a coca cola lollipop instead.

“Have you let him know?” One of the men, Dum Dum he thinks, speaks up first.

“I mean, I can’t right? I’ve lost my chance. He’s already with someone else and I don’t want to mess up their relationship.” Bucky pets the golden retriever currently lying on his feet. He kind of wishes he was a dog right now, they probably don’t get attached to a random boy they see at a random Starbucks and then get heartbroken when they start dating someone else even though they were the one who told them they weren’t interested. Dogs have it easy. 

“You still can, kid. If he really likes you maybe he’ll come back.” Another man, Monty, says. Bucky considers these options, sure, it makes sense, but Bucky doesn’t know if he wants to at this point. 

“Have ya ever considered that maybe he wasn’t on a date?” Juniper asks, and the rest of the men grumble in agreement. 

“No, he was. I know that look. It was definitely a date.” Bucky sighs, slumping back into his chair. “At this point, I just want to stop pining over him and move on. That can’t be too hard, right? It’s why I’m here to get a sadtoo.”

“The fuck is a sadtoo?” Dum Dum mumbles. 

Bucky ends up getting added to a group chat titled the Howling Commandos, the name of the tattoo shop, and was told to update them on his situation whenever something happens, or if he needs more advice. Bucky is also banned from getting his sadtoo, so he sets about finding a new hobby to fill his time before he has to go home to Brooklyn. 

Bucky’s quest for distraction ends with him getting a cat. It’s not actually planned nor is it on his list of things to do but when he pulls up to the supermarket to get more groceries for their very sad and empty fridge, he notices a box of tiny kittens sitting by the entrance. 

“I’ll come back and get you.” He promises, crossing two fingers over his heart as he waves goodbye to the tiny white kitten meowing at him sadly. He picks up the essentials - milk, butter, nutella, ready made pasta, some random vegetables, three packs of instant noodles, bread, cereal and four packs of beer. Then he heads to the pet section and quickly realises he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing. He ends up on a wikihow page, ticking off the list of necessities for the tiny white cat sitting in front of the door waiting for Bucky to come and save him. All in all, it’s a pretty successful trip. 

“Alright, buddy.” Bucky says, kneeling down to examine the tiny, tiny kitten sitting in the box. He feels his heart melt a little at the sight. The cat is _so_ small, barely fitting on his hand, and so, so soft. He falls in love right then and there. The cat looks like a ball of fluffy snow, and when he yawns, Bucky nearly dies right there in the parking lot of Walmart. He examines the tiny feline again when he notices a small tag hanging from his neck, Alpine, it reads. He and Alpine are best friends now. He places the whole box on the passenger seat of Tony’s car and drives off, wondering how he’s going to explain this to his flatmate when he gets back from class. 

Turns out, he doesn’t have to wait. When he enters the living room, Tony is immediately in front of him, eyebrows furrowed as he points to the box. 

“That’s a cat.” Tony deadpans, looking at Bucky like he’s lost his mind. 

“No, this is our cat.” Bucky replies, picking up the tiny kitten to place on Tony’s hands. “His name is Alpine.” 

“Bucky, why did you bring home a fucking _cat_?” Tony questions, holding Alpine at arms length as the tiny kitten begins nuzzling and licking at Tony’s fingers, following Bucky into the kitchen as he begins to unload their stuff and set up a corner for his new pet. 

“I saw him in front of the supermarket and I couldn’t leave him.” Bucky sighs, turning around to face Tony with a pleading pout. “Please? Tone, he’s so cute. How can you say no to that face? He was all alone and the last one too. I promise I’ll take care of him, pick up his poop, take him on walks, whatever I need to do.” 

“I don’t think you walk cats, Barnes.” Tony mumbles, finally taking a look at the face of the cat. As if on cue, Alpine meows and Bucky nearly melts right there into the floor. “Alright, fine. We can keep him, but he’s your responsibility.” Tony grumbles, even as he holds the cat to his chest, scratching behind his little ears. 

“Thank you! You’re the best housemate!”

“It’s kinda funny, isn’t it?” Tony begins, letting out a little snort. 

“What is?” 

“Alpine. Al- _pine_. Like, I’ll pine after Steve Rogers like a stupid lovesick school girl because I don’t know how to confess my feelings to- Hey!” Tony is cut short as Bucky pinches him in the arm. “I’m holding our child here! I could’ve dropped him!” Bucky pauses for a second, considering.

“What would Pepper say knowing that you had a child with another man?” 

“She’d be happy it was you Barnes. You’re on our list of people we’re allowed to have cheat with if given the chance.” Tony informs him, skipping out of the kitchen with Alpine in his arms.

“I- What?” Bucky calls after him, only to be met with silence.


	6. Bucky and Alpine Are Best Freinds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky finally gets his head out of his ass and things get interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a long chapter, probably the longest i've written so far. i remember thinking like i could never write 6000 words in a chapter but yet here we are at 5.8k (close enough). this chapter title is kinda unrelated but i couldnt really think of anything else to name it
> 
> as always thank you to raven! she actually suggested adding in alpine and the group chat names in this fic so thank you as always to her! and thank you for reading this too. your comments are the steve to my bucky, they literally make me so happy 
> 
> thank you for reading! 
> 
> btw i'm planning an intermission chapter filled with domestic bucky, tony and alpine moments because i literally love alpine so much

Bucky finally gets a bit of good news on Saturday morning, holding his coffee cup in one hand as he scrolls through his emails with the other. 

“Holy shit.” Bucky shouts, loud enough to startle Alpine awake from his nap on the kitchen counter. “Holy shit. Tony, I got an email from Arnold and Porter.” Bucky shouts, running upstairs and barging into Tony’s room, watching his housemate blink up at him from where he was obviously still asleep. 

“From who and who?” Tony grumbles, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“Arnold and Porter. That’s the place I applied for my internship.” That successfully wakes Tony up, sitting up immediately and looking at Bucky’s phone from over his shoulder. 

“Well? Open it then!” Tony prompts, staring at the unopened email on Bucky’s phone. 

“I’m scared.” Tony just rolls his eyes at the admission, taking the phone out of Bucky’s hands and finally opening the email for him. The pair take a minute to scan through the bit of text, deadly silent with concentration before the house is filled with loud excited shouting. “Congrats! I knew you could do it. You and your big bird brain.” Tony pats him on the shoulder, causing Bucky’s grin to widen. He flops down next to Tony on the bed, opening the group chat he has with Nat, Tony, Clint and Bruce to inform his friends of the news. 

_my favourite assholes_  
_From: Bonko Barnes_  
_I GOT MY INTERNSHIP!!!!!_  
_(Sent 9:56)_

Nat is the first to respond, quickly followed by Bruce.

 _my favourite assholes_  
_From: scary russian spy_  
_Congrats, Barnes!_  
_(Received 9:56)_

 _my favourite assholes_  
_From: very intelligent but less rich kid_  
_So proud of you, Buck!_  
_(Received 9:56)_

 _my favourite assholes_  
_From: scary russian spy_  
_Clint says “congrats bonko!”_  
_(Received 9:56)_

Bucky briefly considers changing the group chat name again to something related to his success before deciding against it. The current name isn’t inaccurate and really, he can’t be bothered to think right now. He quickly shoots off three more texts to Becca and his parents before finally locking and pocketing his phone. He briefly considers sending Steve a text before he decides against it, he knows it's a terrible idea and he really needs to distance himself from the boy before he _really_ starts to fall in love and shit hits the fan. Love? That’s a strong word. Bucky cringes at the thought of it.

Next to him, he notices Tony burying himself back into his blanket and takes pity on the poor boy, giving him a quick pat on the shoulder before making his way out the door and back downstairs, picking up Alpine on the way down. He’s got actual shit to do today for the first time since his exams ended, and he’s just happy for the distraction. 

°•. ✿ .•°

Throughout the week of distracting himself, Bucky spends the entire time trying to minimise how much he talks to Steve, which is much harder said than done. He really, really misses him despite only having hung out with him properly three times, not counting their Starbucks encounters. He tells himself he just misses going to that Starbucks, but really, the new coffee place he’s at is much cheaper and tastes just as good, so he knows he’s just being stupid. He scrolls through their chat, rereading the conversation with a sigh.

 _From: Steve Rogers_  
_Hey, Buck! How are you? Haven’t seen you since the movie. Let’s meet again soon_  
_(Received 13/04/19 11:22)_

 _From: Steve Rogers_  
_Look at this cute dog I saw on the way home_  
_Attachment_  
_(Received 13/05/19 19:12)_

 _From: Steve Rogers_  
_Is everything alright? Are you okay?_  
_(Received 15/05/19 13:02)_

 _From: Steve Rogers_  
_Sorry for bothering you, Buck. I’m just worried_  
_(Received 15/05/19 20:58)_

It’s been two days since he got that last message and Bucky can’t help but feel a stab of guilt every time he reads it. Steve has done absolutely nothing wrong and it’s probably jarring to go from talking to someone everyday to having them completely ignore you and drop off the face of the earth. Bucky feels like a real ass right now. He’s such an ass that asses would make fun of him to hide the fact that they too are assholes, because Bucky is the biggest asshole of them all.

“Listen, Barnes.” Tony snaps, anger already in his tone as he barges into Bucky’s bedroom, Alpine following closely behind him like a tiny soldier, “you know I love you and you’re one of my best friends, but you gotta stop this bullshit you’re pulling with Rogers.” Tony looks angry, like, seriously angry, and Bucky is a little bit scared because Tony never gets angry about anything. 

“I know.” Bucky admits, deflating quickly out of guilt. “I don’t know what to say to him, Tony.” 

“Remember what we said about not taking it out on him? It’s not his fault that you have feelings and you gotta quit punishing him for it.” Tony sits down next to the Bucky Blanket Burrito he’s been stuck in for the past two hours, wallowing in his own self pity and heartbreak. “You both mean a lot to me, and if you hurt each other, I’ll hurt you both, which is why I need you to get your shit together and talk to him. If you don’t want him to be in your life anymore, let him know that.” 

Bucky scrubs a hand down his face, truthfully, he knows. He knows all of this. He’s way too painfully aware of how much he knows, but he’s scared. He doesn’t want to lose Steve and he’s hoping that by not talking to him, he still has the power to text him whenever he decides he’s ready, as fucked up as it is. 

“I know.” Bucky mumbles, untangling himself from the blanket cocoon he’s wrapped himself in and picking up Alpine from the floor, dropping the small cat on his lap to scratch behind his head. Truth be told, he really misses Steve. He always wants to tell Steve whenever something cool happens, like his internship or getting Alpine. He really misses Steve. “I’ll text him soon, okay?” He says, like a fucking liar, because everyone knows just how much of a coward Bucky is when it comes to confrontation, and really, Bucky would rather do anything but face Steve at this point. 

Apparently, though, it’s enough to get Tony to leave for the time being, which should probably make him more nervous than it does because Tony is too stubborn for his own good, but he doesn’t exactly have the emotional strength to care right then. He lies back onto the bed with a sigh, which Alpine takes as an invitation to jump onto his chest. “What would you do, buddy?” Bucky mumbles, reaching up to run a hand down the back of the white cat. Disappointingly but unsurprisingly, Alpine doesn’t answer, only curling up and taking a nap right where he is. 

°•. ✿ .•°

Bucky is woken up by Nat not too long after, the sound of the door enough to disrupt his peaceful sleep. 

“Lets go.” Bucky hears Nat command but doesn’t really register it, his brain is still foggy, unable to put two and two together. He’s more than confused as to why Nat is currently in his room than concerned with what she said. He feels Alpine’s tiny claws poke at his skin in shock through his t-shirt, causing him to startle awake. 

“Where are we going?” He picks up Alpine, taking the cat off his chest before sitting up to blink blearily at Nat. Rather than answering though, she just throws a pair of jeans at him and walking out of his room.

“You have five minutes!” Bucky knows better by now than to disobey Nat when she gives him a direct order, so he does as he’s told, putting on his jeans and attempting to smooth down his hair for all of 10 seconds, before he decides it’s really not worth it and just leaves his room looking a bit like a pufferfish if pufferfish had hair instead of spikes. 

Bucky must have missed something, because when he’s downstairs, he notices his group of friends sitting in the living room, waiting expectantly on him. 

“What’s going on?” Bucky starts to feel very nervous very quickly. 

“Tony called, this is an intervention.” Clint declares, steering Bucky towards the front door. 

“Wait, what? Is this about Steve? I already told Tony I was gonna text him later.” Natasha shows up next to him with his favourite trainers, eyebrows raised as she drops them on the floor. He sticks his feet in them obediently, but still attempts to resist. 

“We all know that your later means never, Bucko.” Tony declares, handing over his wallet and phone. 

“You know we’re just trying to help you here.” Bruce pipes in, appearing right next to Tony. Bucky suddenly feels like he’s being arrested in one of those stupid spy movies, or like a child getting forced to eat his vegetables, or like he’s an alien creature getting chained and forced to move along with the MIB. 

“I can’t believe you’re in on this, Bruce. I thought you were the nice, sane one out of us!” Bucky cries, turning his puppy eyes around to face the man. Bruce’s face falters momentarily before he shakes his head and helps Clint push Bucky towards the door. 

“Give us one good reason why we shouldn’t force you out right now.” Tony demands, raising an eyebrow. Truthfully, Bucky knows there’s no good reason, he’s acting like an ass and has to face his decisions head on. But he’s also a child at heart and tries to come up with any excuse he can think of.

“Alpine gets lonely.” Bucky mumbles, and he can see Nat practically melt from annoyance besides him. 

“I’ll cat sit! I love cats.” Clint declares, actually giving himself a whole ass proper introduction to the confused and sleepy white cat walking down the stairs. Bucky shoots Alpine a pleading look, like the tiny kitten can actually help him out of this mess. “Hi, I’m Clinton Barton, but my friends call me Clint, and you can too!” Alpine nuzzles up to Clint’s ankles and Bucky can’t believe even his own damn cat is in on this conspiracy. “Wait, I have a question.” 

Bucky blinks for a moment, thankful for the interruption. “What?”

“Is he Alpine Barnes or Alpine Stark?” He hears Nat let out an annoyed groan beside him, continuing to drag him out the door by his forearm.

“He’s Alpine Barnes-Stark!” Bucky shouts back, met with a thumbs up from Clint. 

Turns out, his friends are very powerful and persuasive when they need to be, but they also suck at planning. It’s about 11:45 right now, and way too early because Steve’s shift ends at 1 and he won’t be able to talk until then, but they’re here now and won’t let Bucky go home. They also, because everyone hates him, force him to be the one to order the drinks and really, as much as he doesn’t want to face Steve, Nat is wearing a pair of stilettos that look very, very dangerous. He can’t believe he’s being bullied by a pair of shoes. 

“Bucky-” Steve’s surprised voice reaches his ears before he sees Steve himself, causing Bucky to tense and relax all at once. He’s missed that voice, missed talking to him and missed the stupid flirtatous banter they always have. He also knows, though, that by talking to Steve he risks fucking everything up and actually, permanently losing him. “Americano Venti?” Bucky just nods, swallowing nervously. 

“Do you-” Bucky begins, cutting himself off because he’s been fucking about but he’s nervous and his hair looks stupid, and he just wants to not fuck up this friendship more than he already has. 

“You wanna talk after my shift?” Steve offers gently, and Bucky realises just how much he doesn’t deserve Steve right now. 

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Bucky mumbles, sliding over a 5 dollar bill across the table. 

“I’ll see you in an hour, then.” 

It’s honestly the longest hour of Bucky’s whole life, including the first time he had to wait outside the principal's office in high school for beating up another member of the rugby team for spewing out homophobic bullshit. 

“Oh! Nat! We’ve got an appointment for your...fish.” Tony shouts in quite possibly the most unsubtle way of unsubtle ways, causing Natasha to shoot a glare at him and Bruce to gape next to them. Bruce deserves better than literally all of them. 

“Right. The goldfish that I definitely own.” Nat mumbles, her eyes narrowing further into a harsher glare as she grabs his arm and heads out the door. Bruce is the only one who bothers to wave Bucky goodbye, offering a sympathetic smile before he’s pulled out the door. 

“So,” Steve starts, sitting down in the chair across from him. “What’s up?” 

“I’m sorry.” Bucky starts, wincing as he meets Steve’s eyes. Part of him expects Steve to say ‘it’s okay’ or ‘you have nothing to be sorry for’, because Steve is nice like that, and Bucky isn’t sure which one would make him feel worse. “For ignoring you.” 

“Here I was thinking I imagined that.” Steve chuckles, but it’s strained and the usual carefree nature of his tone has disappeared. “Why did you, anyway?” 

“I don’t know.” Bucky huffs, not knowing whether or not to tell him the truth. “Jus’ some stuff happened.” And Steve looks so, so concerned that Bucky feels even worse. He just prays to Zeus or some lightning God to zap him then and there because he deserves it for putting that expression on golden retriever Steve Rogers’ face to begin with.

“You know you can talk to me-” Steve is cut off as he notices someone behind Bucky, offering a quick smile over his shoulder. Turning around, Bucky notices the same dark haired woman he saw in the restaurant heading towards an empty table, offering Bucky a small wave, and because Bucky is actually 13, he doesn’t wave back. She’s fucking gorgeous. Her hair is styled in tight curls and her lips are bright, bright red. Bucky wishes he could be that beautiful. Maybe it’s time to grow out his hair. He feels like one of those teenage girls who get jealous when their favourite celebrities start dating.

“Who’s that?” He can’t help but ask, turning back around to meet Steve’s eyes. Bucky forces himself to smile, but honestly, he probably looks like he’s in pain. He is, in a way, just self inflicted, stupid emotional pain as opposed to like, actual pain.

“That’s Peggy.” Steve supplies, very unhelpfully. 

“And who’s Peggy?” Bucky pushes, really fucking hoping he doesn’t come off as tense as he feels. 

“My best friend growing up. She’s visiting from London so I’ve just been showing her around New York.” Bucky feels his eye twitch. No, in fact, he feels his entire body twitch with embarrassment and shame because, holy shit, he’s stupid. He’s actually stupid. Dum Dum was right. He’s so glad he didn’t get a sadtoo over this. “Why? You jealous?” Steve leans forward on the table, grinning cheekily. 

“No!” Bucky says a little too quickly and definitely way too loudly. Bucky has no concept of what’s socially acceptable and it shows right about now. He can hear the voice of John Mulaney add ‘you know, like a liar’ in his head. He’s definitely more than a little sleep deprived. Steve just stays quiet, cocking an eyebrow at him suspiciously like he doesn’t quite believe him. “I’m not! I swear. I’m sorry I was an ass.” 

“Relax, I’m just teasing.” Steve’s smile widen, and Bucky is so relieved. He feels like he’s been carrying around bags of rice on his shoulders for the past week, and he it’s such a relief to be able to put them down. 

“Yeah. Like, why would I be jealous? That’s just hilarious, Stevie.” Bucky attempts a weak laugh, sounding like a goose even to his own ears as he leans back, elbow resting on the back of his chair. He mentally begs the lightning gods to take this oppourtunity as Steve narrows his eyes at him. 

“Right.” 

“I got a cat.” Bucky blurts out, wanting a change in topic, and Steve, bless him, just goes with it. “His name is Alpine. Here’s a photo!” Bucky slides his phone across to Steve, displaying a photo of the cat in question on his back, pawing at Bucky’s fingers that are barely visible in the photograph. 

“He’s cute. Nice name.” Bucky recalls the comment Tony made about how al- _pine_ over Steve Rogers, and he has to restrain himself from bursting into tears right then and there. He sees Steve mouth one minute to the dark haired woman, Peggy, and Bucky panics. He wants to see Steve again, and this time, he’s determined. 

“Hey, um, if you wanna tag along, my friends and I are celebrating my internship tonight. You can bring a friend if you want.” Bucky offers, speaking quickly so he can get it all out before he can back out. He doesn’t actually have a celebration of any kind, and really, they’ve already wasted too much time drinking as a result of Bucky’s group therapy session, but he’s an idiot and doesn’t know how to ask Steve to hang out with him again. He misses his mum.

“Buck! That’s amazing! Congrats, I’m really happy for you. And uh, yeah, I should be free tonight. I’ll bring Sam who’s just right over…there!” he points to the same man Bucky spoke to before, and all he can think is ‘he spelt my name with an -ie instead of a -y’. 

“I’ll, uh, I’ll text you time and place. And thanks, Steve. That means a lot.” Bucky smiles genuinely, feeling his face flush from embarrassment. Truth be told, he laps up praise like a thirsty camel if it was coming from anyone else but when it comes from Steve, it makes him feel all warm and happy inside. 

“Yeah, it’s no problem. Wow, look at you, fancy lawyer boy. When you’re all successful and rich, maybe you can come back and support your old college buddies.” The taller teases, causing Bucky to raise an eyebrow in response. 

“What? Like a sugar daddy?” Bucky returns, watching Steve’s smile grow even wider. 

“Does that mean you’ll support and fund my art?” 

“Yes, that’s what sugar daddies are for.” 

“Then yes, daddy.” Bucky can’t help the stupid chortle he lets out. Sometimes, he’s impressed by how much his everyday noises sound like animals. 

They talk for another five minutes, just catching up with each other over all the things they’ve missed before Steve excuses himself to go talk to Peggy. Though, it’s only been a week and Bucky doesn’t do much in his day to day life, so it’s not like there’s much to talk about with Alpine and his internship out in the open. All things considered, it went as well as Bucky could’ve hoped for, even including the last minute party he now has to host. It’ll be fine. He has Tony to help him.

 _Howling Commandos_  
_From: Bucky Barnes_  
_me and steve worked things out :D_  
_(Sent 13:22)_

When Bucky gets home, he quickly takes a deep breath before he opens his front door, fully expecting to be bombarded with questions the moment he steps in. So it’s a big surprise when, as opposed to getting cornered and interrogated, he’s met by the sight of his group of friends sat in a circle around Alpine. 

“How’d it go?” Bruce questions as he notices Bucky take a step in, turning around to face him. 

“It went well, but, uh, let's get drinks tonight!” That catches the attention of the rest of the group. 

“Why do you suddenly want to go out? You hate clubs.” Nat squints at him, and he feels oddly naked and exposed under her gaze. Like the slimy piece of bacteria he is.

“Barnes, we aren’t hosting something just so you have an excuse to see Hercules again. Ask him out like a normal person.” Tony deadpans, his hand hovering over Alpine’s head. Even the cat looks disappointed in Bucky’s decision. 

“I know! It’s a celebration for my internship!” Bucky defends, joining their little circle on the floor. Alpine, because he has his priorities straight, immediately abandons his other friends and jumps into Bucky’s lap. 

“Uh huh, and you had this idea...when?” Bruce points out, and Bucky vaguely thinks they look like a weird cult, sat in a circle around a cat like this. 

“Okay, so it _is_ for me to get to see Steve again, but because you all love me, you’ll do this for me?” Bucky plasters on his most innocent smile, cuddling Alpine to his chest only to be met with silence from all his friends. “I’ll pay for two rounds.” He grumbles, continuing to hug his only ally in this stupid house. 

“Great, now we can party.” Clint declares, before their phones all ding at the same time. Bucky wiggles his phone out of the front pocket of his extra tight jeans only to see that Bruce has changed their group chat name to ‘I’m surrounded by idiots’, which, okay, that’s fair.

°•. ✿ .•°

The day goes by quickly, with Bucky spending the majority of his time awake panicking over the events of tonight. There really isn't anything to panic about, there’s nothing to plan or brace himself for, maybe aside from the stupidity of his friends, but he finds things anyway. 

“Tony!” Bucky cries, barging into his housemate’s bedroom.

“What? What’s wrong?” Tony startles, kicking the leg of the table in shock as he turns to face Bucky. 

“Have you seen my jeans?” The look Bucky gets is something close to murderous, but Tony isn’t scary, he’s just grumpy, so it does nothing to deter Bucky. “This is important, Tony! I need my jeans!” 

“Your jeans are probably in your room, dumbass. Where else would they be?” Tony grumbles, turning back around to continue typing furiously on his laptop. 

“I don’t know!” Bucky whines, flopping onto Tony’s bed with a sigh. “This was a mistake. Why can’t I just interact with him like I do other people? Why can’t I just learn to function normally around him?” 

“You have a crush, Bucko. It’s normal. I was like this around Pep too.” Tony pauses, considering his statement. “Well, I felt like this around Pep too. Fortunately for me, I’m not as stupid and awkward as you are.” 

“You asked her out by telling her your favourite planet is uranus, and then she slapped you.” Bucky deadpans. 

“One, I was drunk off my ass. Two, I apologised and she asked me out instead and we’ve been a happy couple ever since.” Tony shoots back, turning around to finally look Bucky in the eye. “Y’know you and that cat of yours have the exact same expression. Like, disappointed and sleepy.” 

Bucky spends the rest of the day bothering Tony as little as he can, instead choosing to bother literally everyone else in his contacts, but he only has so many friends that will put up with his shit before he runs out of people. He’s back in Tony’s room an hour before they have to leave, only to find Tony in the exact same position he left him in. 

“I don’t know what to wear!” Bucky whines, clutching his clothes to his chest. “Please help.” 

“You’re embarrassing yourself in front of our son.” Tony says, unimpressed, shooting a sympathetic look towards Alpine before narrowing his judgy eyes back at Bucky. 

Tony just about manages to get them both dressed and out of the house, grumbling throughout the whole process about how he’s suddenly become the more mature one out of the two of them. When they arrive, Nat, Clint and Bruce are already there, sitting with a massive blond man Bucky’s stupid lizard brain can only recognise as not being Steve. Tony immediately slides into the booth next to Bruce, starting up a conversation about something nerdy, like, atoms, probably. 

“Hey.” He approaches wearily, only to be met by a wide grin from the man. He’s massive, probably even bigger and taller than Steve himself. Bucky didn’t even realise it was possible to get that big. 

“My name is Thor Odinson. I am a friend of Steven’s. Sam could not make it so I came instead.” He smiles brightly, his teeth so white and straight Bucky swears they’re about to start making Tik Tocs. 

“So, where is he?” Bucky questions, attempting to sound nonchalaunt about the whole situation, but as always, he probably sounds constipated instead. Nat raises an eyebrow at his tone. He definitely doesn’t. As if on cue, the man in question appears behind him. 

“He went to the bathroom.” Steve supplies helpfully, scooting into their little booth, meaning Bucky has one spot left and that’s next to Steve. The stars have aligned tonight to taunt him. At least he’s wearing his lucky jeans today.

The drinks arrive soon after, a tray containing a mixture of drinks placed on their table. Bucky, ever so paranoid, is immediately suspicious of his friends, hyper aware that they know which drinks really get him fucked up. 

“What did you guys get me?” Bucky squints suspiciously as Nat pushes the glass of clear liquid towards him with a mischievous smile. 

“It’s your favourite. Gin.” She answers, resting her cheek in the palm of her hand.

“You guys really hate me, huh?” Bucky dramatically places a hand to his chest, betrayal more evident in his voice than he really feels. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Buck. I can take it if you need to.” Steve whispers to him, quietly enough that most of his friends probably wouldn’t have heard it if they weren’t nosy fucks, which they are.

“No, it’s okay.” Bucky reassures, watching the smiles on his friends’ faces grow. The action is so synchronized that it’s a little bit creepy, like the twins in the shining but like, quadruplet adults. “I don’t mind. It’s a celebration, right? Tonight is the night to get fucked up.” 

“To Bucky Barnes!” Thor’s deep voice booms, raising his glass of beer in a toast. “Congratulations on your internship, friend, and thank you for allowing me to be here with you.” There’s a small murmur of ‘to Bucky!’ before they all take a long gulp of their drinks. 

It turns out that when you don’t drink for a long time, your intolerance goes down quick, and Bucky really, really overestimated himself this time around. He’s feeling buzzed by hour one after completing a round of ring of fire, in which he had to down at least 3 shots of straight vodka, the burn familiar from his frat boy days during undergrad. 

The game is both a blessing and a curse, because whenever Steve takes a shot, he can’t help but notice the long line of his throat, or the sharpness of his jawline. The lighting is dim, but there’s just enough light casting directly over them for his eyelashes to form shadows like fans across his face. Bucky really can’t get over how fucking pretty Steve is.

His stupid lizard brain is currently rubbing it’s evil little webbed hands together right about now. 

It really doesn’t help that Steve doesn’t seem to own any shirts that actually fit him, instead forcing the fabric to strain across his wide chest. If the shirt had feelings, Bucky bets it would be screaming for help. He’s in a black t-shirt this time paired with a leather jacket, looking a lot like he belongs in a romance drama featuring the prettiest boy the director could find. 

By the third hour, he’s feeling a little more than buzzed, his words and thoughts blending together in a mixture of colour and sounds. He’s not really sure what’s happening right now, all he knows is that Thor and Bruce apparently get along spectacularly, Pepper showed up sometime around hour two and that Clint and Nat are flirting relentlessly. 

“Here, drink this.” Steve shoves a glass of clear liquid into his hands when Bucky as leaves the bathroom, only to realise once he starts drinking that it isn’t alcoholic but, in fact, water. 

“But Stevie,” he whines, attempting to hand the glass back to the taller boy, “I wanna get drunk!” 

“No, c’mon. Just take a drink, okay?” Steve refuses to take the glass back, causing Bucky to stick his lower lip out into a pout before obediently downing the rest of the drink. But then Bucky can’t help but notice just how soft Steve’s hair looks right now, well, it always looks soft, but it looks particularly shiny tonight. Or maybe that’s just his stupid drunk brain speaking.

“Can I touch your hair?” Bucky asks, already beginning to reach his right arm but stopping right before he gets to the blond strands. He may be drunk, but he’s not disrespectful. Winifred Barnes would have his ass on a tray as a peace offering to Steve if she found out he touched someone without making sure they were comfortable first, drunk or not. 

Luckily, though, Steve just nudges his head against Bucky’s fingers, like a fucking puppy, and his hands begin to slide through the hair. It really is as soft as it looks. Bucky’s hand slowly trails down to the nape of Steve’s neck, carting through the shorter hairs on the back of his head. He steps closer, handing the glass of water to Steve before raising his other arm to join the one already messing up the blond strands. 

He feels an unexplainable urge to curl his fingers just a little tighter, use it to guide Steve where he wants him. And that’s when he makes the mistake of looking into Steve’s eyes. 

Even drunk, he can see the way Steve’s eyes are darkening, the bright blue disappearing to be replaced by the black of his pupil. 

Against his better judgement, Bucky ends up giving the strands a light tug, causing a small breath to be released from between Steve’s parted lips. He can’t even blame that action on the alcohol, because he’s actually not that drunk. He’s walking in a straight line and he can pretty much make coherent choices. 

“Bucky. Bucky- I-” Steve practically breathes his name, cutting himself off quickly and suddenly Bucky doesn’t feel half as drunk as he did a minute ago. His eyes flick down to Bucky’s lips, watching the smaller boy wet and bite his bottom lip anxiously. He’s so hyper aware of all the details. They’re so close, and Steve’s hands, come up to rest on Bucky’s waist, just above the waistband of his jeans, the glass of water still clutched in Steve’s hand pressing into his hip. 

“I’m gonna do it,” he whispers, assessing Steve’s eyes for any sign of discomfort, “if you don’t stop me, I’m gonna do it.” Maybe Bucky’s drunk, and maybe Steve is too, but he can’t help it, because he knows, despite being possibly drunk, that he wants this, could explode from how much he wants it. He’s wanted to kiss Steve since he first saw him in that Starbucks, has always noticed how pretty and red his lips are, has pushed away thought after thought about finally getting to find out how they feel against his own.

And the answer? Pretty damn good. 

Steve’s lips are initially so, so soft, almost hesitant against his own. It doesn’t take long, though, for that hesitation to disappear and soon enough, Bucky’s pressed up against him, one hand falling from the blond strands to grab onto Steve’s shoulder instead. Bucky can’t help it, Steve feels so, so good against him like this, their mouths moving together in such a perfect rhythm. Steve’s hands are firm, and so strong, and so stable. 

“Shit.” Steve hisses, only to be disrupted by the sound of glass shattering right next to his feet, feeling a shard of glass hitting his denim clad leg as the cup slips from Steve’s hand. That catches the attention of one of the waitresses just outside who quickly usher them out to start cleaning up before some drunk customer actually hurts themselves. 

To their credit, they both try to laugh it off, forcing out small sentences like ‘that was interesting’ or ‘well then’, before it all flies out the window and their lips are reconnecting right there, in the middle of the bar outside of the corridor of the toilets. 

Their kisses escalate quickly, becoming more aggressive by the second, and soon enough, Steve is slipping his tongue past Bucky’s lips. Bucky feels like his skin is on fire, overheating from both the alcohol and Steve’s warm skin against his own. And, god, he’s like a teenager all over again, feeling himself harden in his jeans at the press of Steve’s body against his own. He can feel Steve’s own hard on pressing against his thigh, as Steve pulls him in closer, a hand on the small of his back, so dangerously close to his waistband. 

“Wait.” Steve interrupts, panting as he pulls away just enough to take a proper look at Bucky without going cross eyed. “You’re drunk.” 

“Way to state the obvious, genius.” Bucky huffs, tugging on the lapels of Steve’s leather jacket to try and bring him into another kiss. 

“No, wait, Buck. Are you sure you want to do this?” Steve looks so sincere that Bucky forces himself to take a deep breath to calm himself down, pushing down the annoyance. Of course Steve wouldn’t want to take advantage of Bucky, he’s just that sweet.

“Yes.” He answers, attempting to sound firm and confident. “I’m- I’m not a kid, okay? I know what I want. Besides, it’s not like you’re sober either. I’ve wanted this since I saw you, Steve. You’re just, god, you’re so beautiful. I want this. I want you. And, if you’re willing,” Bucky takes another small step closer until his body is pressed flush against Steve, “I want more than this too.”

“My place?” Steve offers after a moment of tense silent, and Bucky nods, grabbing ahold of Steve’s hand before following him out the bar and into a taxi.


	7. Bucky Has Trouble Saying No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an awkward morning after and Bucky becomes a minion fucker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooo guys, the alpine chapter is coming up in the near future. sorry this chapter took longer than usual (even though it's actually only been six days). thank you as always to raven for proof reading this and helping me through my lack of ideas and also always being so supportive ily ma'am.
> 
> i always appreciate kudos, reads, and comments! they always make my day when i get a notification in my email
> 
> have fun and thank you for reading!

Bucky feels like there’s a very enthusiastic up and coming rock drummer playing in his brain, one who hasn’t quite grasped the idea that rock and roll does not always mean play as loud as you can. He’s never drinking again. Letting out an annoyed groan, he pats around for his phone on the pillow next to him when his hand slaps hard on bare skin, resulting in a loud smack. 

“Fuck.” Yelps a voice beside him, and holy shit, Bucky is getting robbed. “That’s my face, Buck.” Wait. How does the robber know his name? 

Except, that voice doesn’t belong to a robber, it belongs to a disoriented, sleepy and apparently very _naked_ Steve Rogers right next to him. 

He feels like he’s in a stupid romcom, except he’s not Ryan Gosling, which, in itself, is a shame. 

“Bucky?” The voice, Steve, speaks again. Bucky feels his blood freeze in his veins as the reality of the situation finally hits him. He had sex with Steve Rogers, the Starbucks guy who walks dogs on Thursday afternoons. 

“Steve.” Bucky squeaks out, turning around slowly to face him. Like if he turns just slow enough Steve will vanish into thin air.

“You okay in there, man?” A third, concerned noise comes from the other side of Steve’s door, and holy shit, Bucky is so glad Steve’s friends don’t just barge in like Tony. 

“Sam? What are you doing back?” Steve calls back, his voice rough as he sits up, blinking blearily at the door. 

“Just got back this morning. I only went back to Brooklyn, man. Doesn’t exactly take a plane to get there.” The third voice, apparently Sam’s, responds. “Doesn’t answer my question though.” 

“I’m good. I-” Steve looks so disoriented, like someone came into his house and hit him with a frying pan randomly one day. Like one of those cartoons that run solely on slapstick comedy. “Yeah.” Steve sits up a little more, leaning to look on the floor probably for his clothes. 

“Steve.” Bucky whispers, afraid that Sam will hear him. “We had sex.” Bucky blurts out, clutching at the blankets like a child with a nightmare, except this is kind of his dream scenario, minus the slapping Steve in the face thing. 

“I-I guess we did.” Steve mumbles back, looking down at his naked body like he’s confused by it, like it’s not actually his body and that he just appeared in it one day. 

“Do I have to do the walk of shame?”

“What?” 

“You know when I walk past Sam and pretend I didn’t have sex with you last night.” 

“Did you not want to have sex with me?” 

“No, I mean, I did- I do- but- I- How do I get out of here?” 

“Through the front door?” Steve furrows his eyebrows at him with so much genuine confusion Bucky doesn’t even have the strength to be mad. Instead, he just flips onto his stomach like a seal, pushing his face into the pillow with a sigh. He winces at the pain that shoots through his butt and legs at the movement, letting out another annoyed groan at the ache.

“Fuck you, Rogers.” 

“If I recall, it was the other way around.” Steve shoots him the flirtiest grin Bucky has ever seen in his entire life. He swears he feels his stomach turn into melted cheese at the sight.

“Steve?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I hate you.” 

It turns out that whilst Steve might be a nice guy who’ll let Bucky off the hook for slapping him in the face first thing in the morning and is okay with pretending that they didn’t have sex last night so that things won’t be weird, his roommate is not quite the same way. 

“So.” Sam starts, breaking the silence that’s growing tense and awkward around the dining table, “you guys like, dating or something?” He asks, cutting into his pancake. Next to him, Bucky watches Steve visibly stiffen, kinda like he’s turning into a tree. 

“Sam.” Steve shoots his roommate a warning glare, met with two hands raised in surrender. Bucky feels an unexplainable urge to high five him. 

“We’re not dating.” Bucky cuts in before Steve can explode or start crying, he’s not really sure which one is more likely to happen first. Sam ends up shooting Steve an incredulous look, eyebrows raised, as Steve looks literally everywhere but at his friend’s face. 

“But you guys had sex?” 

“Sam!” Steve snaps back, not unkindly, just very scandalized. 

“I see.” Sam states, plopping the last piece of pancake in his mouth before getting up and leaving his plate in the sink. “I’m gonna go see Riley, I’ll see you guys later.” He states before making his way out of the house, shouting a goodbye to both of them. 

“I’m sorry.” Steve groans, covering his bright red face with his hands. “I just. He’s confused because I don’t usually do things like this, and I know you’re not looking for anything, so really, it’s okay. We don’t have to be anything just because we had sex once. I just didn’t want things to get awkward between us. I don’t want to lose what we have, y’know? Whatever this is now.”

Bucky feels an unexplainable lump in his throat at the admission, like there’s a piece of rock stuck there that he can’t quite get rid of. Really, some part of him had always hoped that Steve would like him too, that maybe because he was never on a date with Peggy, Steve had feelings for him. It was obviously wishful thinking and way too good to be true, but Bucky had hoped with everything he had. His headache suddenly feels so much worse than it did two minutes ago. 

“It’s okay, Steve.” He manages to say, his voice coming out calmer than he feels. “Clean slate?” 

“Yeah, sure.” He forces his lips up into a smile at the nod he receives, quickly finishing the last pieces of his pancake with a sigh.

“I gotta go now though, I should find Tony. I’ll see you later, yeah?” Quickly getting up, Bucky grabs his phone and shoves his feet into his shoes before leaving, not waiting to hear Steve’s response. 

°•. ✿ .•°

“Hey, Bucko. Can you help me choose- oh, Jesus Christ not again.” He hears Tony mumble as the door swings open. He doesn’t see either, though, his vision blocked by his blanket as he’s cocooned in his Bucky Blanket Burrito. “Are you heartbroken? Again?” 

“So what if I am?” Bucky pouts, sitting up to throw his pillow at Tony. 

“Listen, Bucky-” Tony starts, his therapist voice on.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Get over him or cut him out, but I really wanna be friends with him, y’know? I really like him, I don’t want to lose him either. It’s not like he likes me, he said it today, he didn’t wanna be with me.” Bucky grumbles, and Tony just nods, looking relatively uncomfortable with the level of emotion that’s currently going around the house. 

“Well, yes. That’s not...great.” Tony answers, visibly wincing at his own awkwardness before reaching out to pet Bucky’s knee like it’s Alpine’s head. 

“Yeah, anyway. What do you need help choosing?” Tony grins, holding up two dress shirts that Bucky thinks looks honestly exactly the same, even down to the shade of the white. 

“What shirt should I wear on the first day of the internship?” Tony grins, and Bucky genuinely can’t tell if Tony is messing with him or not. 

“Tony, your family owns the company. I’m pretty sure you could go in dressed in pyjamas and they’d be okay with it. Also, those two shirts are the same colour.” Bucky points out, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he tries to stare closer at them. 

“No! They’re completely different. The fabric isn’t even the same and my dad will kill me if I don’t look presentable.” Tony grumbles, holding out the shirts to Bucky. “Touch them!” Slowly, Bucky reaches out a hand to feel the fabric of the dress shirt. 

“Tony, I’m sorry. They feel exactly the same.” Whining, Tony leaves the room, taking out his phone to dial someone, Pepper, probably. 

°•. ✿ .•°

Bucky, because he’s the embodiment of healthy coping mechanisms, pushes everything related to Steve and Feelings to the back of his mind, locked in a box with a skull and bones on the front. He pretends everything is normal, like nothing has changed and like Steve’s dick was _not_ in his ass last night. This, however, means seeing Steve every single day at the Starbucks he works at in order not to seem suspicious despite Tony, very unhelpfully, calling him a dumbass with more emotional issues than he does. 

He tenses up slightly as he sees Steve walking towards his table, looking exhausted and definitely as hungover as one should be after a night of heavy drinking. 

“Hey.” Steve greets, practically falling into his chair, the eyebags so dark they nearly take away from how bright his eyes are, just nearly. 

“Hi.” Bucky parrots, looking up from his phone to meet Steve’s eyes. There’s a moment of awkward silence as they just stare at each other from across the table. 

“So.” Steve begins, because he’s a more well adjusted human being who knows how to handle awkward silences. “Internship, huh? Where are you headed?” 

“Arnold and Porter. It’s a fancy law firm and I’m very lucky to even be noticed.” Bucky explains, trying his hardest to relax his voice. He hates feeling like this because now he’s just hyper aware of everything he does, including where his hands are. He can’t remember what his fingers usually do and he’s just really hoping Steve doesn’t notice how awkward they feel.

“Ah, I see. Brooklyn or here?” Steve questions, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. And Bucky hates his stupid Starbucks shirt that’s straining against Steve’s arms like it’s practically crying in pain. 

“Here. I live here, so...” He answers, trailing off for a lack of something better to say. 

He can practically feel his friends judging him from whatever sad corner of New York they’re all hiding in for how badly this conversation is going. Bucky really hates it, really. As nervous as he gets around Steve, they’ve always had an easy going rhythm and flow about their conversations, and now it’s like they can’t even look at each other without panicking about it. 

Despite this, both Steve and Bucky are stubborn pieces of shit who refuse to give up, so they put themselves through the torture of making awkward small talk everyday for the next week. The first week is painful, Bucky almost feels like he’s clawing his eyes out for anything to talk about. It gets so bad at Bucky decides he has to do something about it before he goes insane. 

“Are those...conversation topics?” Tony questions, holding Alpine on his shoulder like a parrot as he looks over Bucky’s head. He takes a peek at the book he’s scribbling furiously into and begins reading all the words he can see. “Summer holiday, Gossip Girl, Ireland, mythology, Greek gods. Are you literally a grandpa?”

“Yes.” Bucky answers, snatching the book out of Tony’s line of sight, debating whether he should say something about Alpine’s safety before deciding against it. Tony may be destructive and chaotic but he would rather eat his own legs than hurt Alpine.

“What for?” 

“They’re nothing. Just...ideas.” Bucky answers vaguely, waving his pen around in an attempt to distract Tony. Instead, he catches the attention of Alpine who, somehow, very impressively pounces from Tony’s shoulder and onto the dining table where Bucky is working, pawing at the pen in Bucky’s hand. 

“Wait a fucking second.” God dammit. “Are those for Rogers?” Tony questions, and Bucky isn’t sure if that’s betrayal on his face from Alpine abandoning him or whether it’s disbelief at Bucky’s stupidity. It could honestly be either. 

“Yes. Stop judging me, it’s been so awkward lately, okay? I just want things to go back to normal.” Bucky grumbles, scratching Alpine’s chin with the hand not holding his pen. 

“Come on. I’m joining you today.” Tony declares, bouncing up the stairs after shutting the taller boy’s laptop. “I’m going to be your social lubricant.” 

“Please don’t ever say social lubricant ever again. It’s going to haunt my dreams.” Bucky complains, shutting the door to his room to block out Tony’s response.

Bucky doesn’t actually take Tony’s comment seriously, because honestly, who takes any sentence with the word ‘lubricant’ in it seriously? Apparently, Tony does, because that’s how he finds himself sitting in a circle with Steve to his left and Tony to his right. 

“You guys are so much worse than I imagined.” Tony declares, running a hand down his face with a sigh. 

“Why are you here, Tony?” Steve grumbles, glaring daggers at the man from across the table. 

“I’m here to help, Steve. Stop looking so grumpy, your face will freeze that way. Anyway, what are your plans for the summer holiday?” Bucky gapes. Tony stole that from his list. 

“Well, Tony. I’m staying right here in New York with you, in our house, where you also live.” Bucky deadpans, at least he and Steve can bond over how ridiculous Tony’s bonding attempt is. Vaguely, Bucky thinks this feels a lot like couple therapy, except their therapist has more problems than both of them combined. And they’re not a couple. 

“What about your stupid white people barbecue on the fourth of July?” Tony questions, eyebrows coming together like he’s concentrating, like Bucky’s stupid white people barbecue is actually an important topic for him.

“I’ll be leaving during that week, but I’m staying right here with you for the rest of it.” Bucky says, his voice taking on a sickly sweet tone.

“Woah. What a coincidence that we’re talking about the Fourth of July, isn’t it, Steve?” Tony questions, completely ignoring the change in Bucky’s voice as he turns around to face the blond man. Bucky cringes at how forced Tony’s question is, like a really bad game show host forced to ask promiscuous questions in a thinly veiled attempt at getting the contestants to say sexual things.

“No, Tony. It’s not.” Steve grits out, looking very tired of his shit right now. Bucky feels just a little bit bad that he’s putting Steve through this but selfishly, he’s glad he’s got a friend.

“Really? I could’ve sworn it was a special day for you, Steve-o.” Tony sings and he watches Steve tense up. Now he’s intrigued, looking between the two of them, Bucky tries to meet the gazes of either man in order to get an answer. 

“It’s my birthday.” Steve sighs, bringing a hand up to rub at his temple like this conversation is giving Steve the biggest headache in the world. 

“What?” Bucky sits up straight, looking at Steve, then Tony, then back at Steve. 

“Well, look at the time. I need to go feed my son, adios guys. Have fun.” Tony states, pretending to look at a watch on his bare wrist before walking out and leaving the Starbucks. 

“It’s not a big deal, Buck. I never really celebrate my birthday anymore, I don’t really like to. There’s no point.” Bucky sighs, pursing his lips in thought as he watches Steve’s usually happy face, even if it has been just a facade for the last week, fall into such a gloomy and miserable expression. It doesn’t look right, like a sad face on a happy puppy. 

“You’re coming home with me.” That causes Steve to raise his head a little too fast, eyes wide as they stare at each other. There’s a moment of tense awkwardness before they both break into laughter at Bucky’s demand, Steve’s hand clutching at his left pec. 

“You’re a little forward, aren’t you, Barnes? Not even gonna buy me dinner first?” Steve teases, and even though the relaxed happy smile is back on his face, he can see that Steve is still tense, waiting to see Bucky’s reaction. 

“Sorry, Rogers. I’m only here for the sex and your beautiful man boobs.” That startles another laugh out of Steve, and it’s almost like Steve’s laughter was the thing that was needed to drive away the awkward tension between them. Bucky almost sags in relief at it, the worry that his friendship with Steve would’ve been ruined from just a night where Bucky’s drunken brain got the better of him finally dissipating.

“God dammit. Should’ve seen this coming.” 

“No, but seriously. Come back with me. The Barnes are great at the Fourth of July, we have a barbecue, and movies, and my family will love you. I promise you that, Steve.” The man worries his bottom lip between his teeth, and is clearly about to turn down the offer when Bucky cuts in. “Seriously, Steve. I want you there, my family are always trying to find someone else to spoil and you’re the perfect candidate.” 

“Are you sure I won’t be a bother?” Steve questions, sighing. 

“I promise. Pinky promise.” Bucky holds out his pinky at Steve, only to be met with raised eyebrows. Once Bucky doesn’t lower his hand, Steve reaches out to hook his pinky into his own with a fond smile. The look Steve hits him with is almost too intense, it feels like Bucky just gave him the world and he’s really not sure how to deal with that level of affection directed at him. 

“Alright then. Guess I’m going to be experiencing a Barnes fourth of July.”

°•. ✿ .•°

Bucky quickly learns that Steve tends to overcompensate whenever he’s grateful for something, and whilst it’s slightly suffocating, Steve looks so happy doing it there’s no way Bucky can turn him down. Truth be told, though, he isn’t completely over what happened between them at the party. Sometimes, he still thinks about it in the shower or throughout the day randomly, and it’s also all he can think about whenever he sees Steve’s face. However, as a result of his gratitude, he sees Steve a lot more than he usually does, which he supposes isn’t a bad thing in itself because their old dynamic has practically returned and it’s not like Bucky doesn’t like hanging out with Steve, but it does result in some pretty strange situations. 

“Hey, Barnes!” Tony calls up the stairs one afternoon, startling Bucky enough that he hits his head on the headboard he’s currently leaning on, and waking Alpine up from his nap from his spot on Bucky's feet. 

“What?” He shouts back, hoping his lungs are powerful enough for his words to reach Tony.

“You’ve got a visitor!” Tony screams back. Bucky internally apologises to his poor neighbours and probably God for waking them up from their naps. Probably. He quickly waddles down the stairs in probably the biggest, ugliest piece of clothing he owns, which is saying something considering Bucky is a certified Big Ugly Hoodie Collector and a pair of gym shorts when he sees Steve at the front door. Bucky himself doesn’t look too bad, but the hoodie has the Gucci logo on the front with two minions, one over each pec and the phrase ‘gang gang’ printed on the sleeves. To make things worse, the hoodie is the brightest, most fluorescent neon orange he has ever laid his eyes on. 

Bucky currently looks like an angry, greasy minion fucker who steals clothes from giants, and Steve is at the front door. 

He hates Tony so, so much. He’s filing a house divorce and taking custody of their child.

“Heya, Buck.” Steve greets, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with a Starbucks bag in his hands. 

“Hey, Steve. What are you doing here?” Bucky questions, and momentarily considers taking it off but he’s not really wearing anything underneath, and he’s just not sure which one is worse in this situation. 

“Can I come in?” Steve asks, holding up the bag in his hand. “I’ve got coffee.” 

“Yes. Please stay as long as you want. I’ll just be on the couch with my son.” Picking up Alpine, who just came tumbling down the stairs, Tony quickly bounces off to the couch and takes out his phone to pretend he’s not listening but really he is because he’s a stupid, nosy piece of shit. 

“Nice hoodie.” Steve comments and Bucky just can’t handle it. Bucky really can’t tell if Steve is being sarcastic or not, because he sounds sincere but there’s no way anyone could even like the monstrosity wrapped around him right now. “It’s so cute and happy.” 

“I- I didn’t buy it. It’s not mine. Well, actually it is mine, but like I didn’t choose it myself. My little sister, Becca, I’ve told you about Becca, right? Yeah, she got it for me as a birthday present and it’s actually really comfortable so I just. Yeah.” Bucky quickly shuts his mouth, realising he’s rambling and seriously, seriously wants to cry. He attempts to force his body to spontaneously combust. No luck.

“No! I wasn’t being sarcastic. I really like it. It’s really cute.” 

“Cute?” He hears Tony echo from the couch, his head popping up in disbelief with Alpine resting on his shoulder again. “Did you just call that orange garbage bag badly disguised as a hoodie ‘cute’? 

“Yeah!” Steve furrows his eyebrows, looking between the two of them. “It’s got minions. It’s adorable.” 

“Oh my god.” He hears Tony whisper from the couch, like hearing Steve call minions cute is the most horrifying thing he’s ever heard. “You’re a minion fucker.” 

“What? I just think it’s bright and happy!” Steve defends, whining. 

“It says gang gang on the sleeves!” Tony shouts back, waving one of his arms angrily, the other holding onto Alpine to make sure he doesn’t slip and slide off whilst he’s being dramatic. 

“Tony, leave him alone. Don’t you have work to be doing?” Bucky huffs, rolling up the sleeves to his elbows. If Steve thinks it’s cute then he’ll take pride in the hoodie. 

“Where should I put this? Do you want it now?” Steve questions, holding up the brown paper bag with his pointer. 

“Uh, maybe later. It’s a bit late for coffee, can you just pop it in the fridge? The kitchen is straight down the hall.”

“Okay, sure. I’ll be right back.” He declares, before disappearing down the hall to the kitchen.

“And I,” Tony announces, getting up off the couch, “am going off to work on some important Stark Industries stuff. Very important, very confidential.” He states, although it's a bit difficult to see Tony as an important figure with Alpine balanced on his head.

Right after Tony leaves, Bucky feels a buzz in his pocket and pulls out his phone to check his notifications. 

_i’m surrounded by idiots_  
_From: smart rich kid_  
_bucky had sex with a minion fucker_  
_(Received 3:53)_

He hates Tony with all his heart. 

°•. ✿ .•°

Bucky can honestly, confidently say he’s never quite met a man so charming yet so socially inept as Steve. It’s not that Steve isn’t good with people, because he is, it’s more that Steve sometimes completely misreads signs and expressions.

“I brought you a present!” Steve declares, biting down on his bottom lip to keep from smiling too widely as he hands over the intricately wrapped present. There’s even a pretty bow on the top that looks like it was wrapped by hand, and Bucky’s so impressed that he forgets to respond for a moment. The art student in Steve really came out for this present.

“Sorry I, This is so pretty. I feel bad destroying it!” Bucky declares, so he spends the next few minutes meticulously cutting the pieces of tape on the box in order to preserve the paper, a pretty bright yellow covered in little tiny daisies and hearts. Bucky’s not really sure what he’s going to do with it but he loves it and he’ll figure it out.

That is, until all of the paper comes off. 

Bucky looks up at Steve to gauge his reaction, and Steve’s bottom lip is still between his teeth, the corner of his lips curling up in such a genuine, lovely smile that Bucky doesn’t want to disappoint him. 

“I love it!” He claims, like a dirty, dirty liar. He stares down at the small minion plush in his hands, looking between the box and Steve’s face for any sign that he’s joking. He prays to any God out there that responds to lying losers like him that Steve is joking.

“Oh, that’s great! I was so worried you weren’t going to like it. Sam told me it was a bad idea so I really considered not doing it but I’m so happy you like it!” Steve looks so genuinely happy and Bucky just feels so torn inside. He looks towards the counter to catch Sam’s eye, who is doubled over laughing as he watches the interaction between them.

“I love it, Steve. It’s...so cute!” He forces as much enthusiasm into his voice as he can, cringing as he looks down at the ugly yellow doll in his hands.

“I actually watched Despicable Me for this. I didn’t want to accidentally buy you like, an evil minion or something.” Steve’s face is turning pink from the admission, and now Bucky really can’t say no to this minion. He just can’t bring himself to crush all the effort and hard work Steve has put in into making him smile, and it actually works. Bucky is so touched that despite the ridiculousness of this situation, he starts grinning at Steve.

“Oh yeah? Did you like it?” Bucky questions, placing the box down onto the table. 

“Yeah! I did. Which one is your favourite?” Bucky is suddenly so thankful for Facebook Karen who’s always posting about the stupid minion movie and getting into heated debates in the comments. Whilst Bucky doesn’t particularly care about minion politics, it’s quite amusing watching middle aged women argue over demonic yellow creatures in suspenders. 

“The first one. Can’t beat the original.” Bucky claims, grinning widely to hide his awkwardness. He’s speaking out of his ass and he’s pretty sure Sam can tell all the way from across the cafe. 

“I actually liked the second one the most.” Steve claims, and then goes on a long rambly explanation about why the second demonic yellow movie is better than the first demonic yellow movie. 

“Did you hear about Stark’s clothing problem?” Bucky answers, wincing at the obvious attempt at changing the subject and just hoping Steve doesn’t notice. Or at least doesn’t point it out. Thankfully, they manage to move on from there, and Steve completely forgets about the weird minion discussion they were having. On his way home, Bucky can’t help but notice that his backpack suddenly feels a lot heavier with the minion in it despite the toy being the same size as Bucky’s hand and light as a feather. His brain tells him It’s the weight of the lies he’s spreading.

“Tony, we’re best friends right?” Bucky questions at dinner that night, causing Tony to pause midchew, staring at Bucky with the most fear he’s ever seen on anyone’s face.

“Did you kill somebody?” Tony asks. There’s a bit of spaghetti stuck to his cheek and it makes him look completely ridiculous. “What do you want from me?”

“No, why do you think I want something? Can’t I just seek validation from the person I love and consider my closest friend without any other reason than just because?” Bucky asks, watching Tony continue to blink at him suspiciously. “Okay, fine. I need a favour. I’m calling in _the_ favour.” This favour in particular stems all the way back from the beginning of the semester, when Bucky had to bail Tony out of getting arrested within the first week. At 3am on the second night of being housemates, Bucky received a call from Tony claiming he took a dare to go streaking but the people he was out with took his clothes and left, and he was then stuck in a public toilet a 10 minute drive away from their house. 

“Okay, now I’m really scared. What do you need?” Tony squints, placing his cutlery down to stare at Bucky. 

“I need you to watch the Despicable Me movies with me.” 

“What? Why?” Tony asks, looking like Bucky just told him they needed to go out and commit murder. 

“Don’t ask questions, okay? We just need to do this.” 

“I bet it’s Steve the minion fucker! That boy has you wrapped around his finger, Bucky!” 

“Does it matter why we do it? It’s _the_ favour, Tony! You can’t fight it!” 

They do end up watching the movies despite Tony’s complaints, though, and within five minutes, Alpine has started hissing at the screen like he detects the demonic presence. To be fair, Alpine is a very perceptive cat and if he detects a demonic presence, then there is definitely a demonic presence in the movie.

“Bucky, our son is clearly filing a formal complaint here. We should turn it off.” Tony requests. Using Alpine against him is a new low.

“No. This is very important. I need to learn about this.” Tony leaves halfway through the movie and comes back with one of the bottles of vodka Nat left behind during the Bucky Therapy Session and just straight up takes a gulp from the bottle. 

“You okay there?” Bucky questions, watching his housemate’s distraught face.

“I’m the heir to a multibillion dollar company and I’m sitting here on a Friday night with a minion fucker for a housemate.” Tony mumbles sadly.

They make it through another 5 minutes before Tony can’t resist taking another drink at the sound of the obnoxious laughter of the minions on the screen.

“Hey, pass me the bottle?” Bucky requests, taking a big gulp once it’s in his hands. They’re only half way through the movie and Bucky is already slowly losing all feeling in his brain.

It’s not a bad movie. In fact, it’s actually a really good one. The movie pulls of sympathetic villains so well that Bucky actually tears up at the end of the movie, and the minions were actually kind of cute at the beginning. He can see how someone like Steve might have found this movie and the minions adorable. However, after two hours of listening to the stupid, nasily, high pitched noises, Bucky has never been more sick of anything in his life, 

By the time the two of them start the second movie, Tony is so drunk that he’s barely focused on the movie. In fact, he’s so drunk that when the infamous scene of the minions singing the Banana Song comes on, he starts crying. 

“Why is he saying potato?” He sobs, leaning into Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky, flushed and drunk starts tearing up at the sight of Tony’s tears. “What do potatoes have to do with bananas?”

“This was a horrific idea, Barnes. Do you really like him that much? I swear I can find someone else just as tall and cute as him if you let me out of this now.” Tony begs into Bucky’s shoulder, arms coming up to wrap around Bucky’s waist in a pleading hug. 

“But I want Steve!” Bucky cries out. His head is starting to hurt from all the high pitched sounds of the minion.

“Couldn’t you just tell him that you didn’t like minions?” 

“You don’t understand! It’s like telling a puppy he’s on time out! I couldn’t crush his tiny puppy soul!”

“He’s a 22 year old, grown ass man, he’ll live with the fact that you don’t like a stupid talking tic tac, Barnes!” 

“Ssh. Don’t say that so loudly. What if Steve hears you?”

Despite their best efforts, the two of them don’t actually end up finishing the third movie, instead, falling asleep on the couch sometime through the second movie. In the morning, Bucky agrees to never bring up the fact that Tony drunk cried over minions singing the Banana Song, and Tony agrees to never bring up the fact that Bucky forced them to watch this movie to begin with.


End file.
